


Hey Arnold: The Jungle Fic

by thearnoldwaltz



Category: Hey Arnold
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 52,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearnoldwaltz/pseuds/thearnoldwaltz
Summary: As Arnold nears the end of his fourth grade year, his relationship with his long-time bully gets complicated. But it's hard to focus on that when he's also handed a once in a lifetime chance to visit the city his parents never returned from.





	1. She likes me. She likes me not.

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline for this story differs slightly from canon. Most notably, saving the neighborhood and the Future Tech Industry scandal happens in March, and Arnold finds his father's journal in April.

Arnold fell onto his bed, exhausted, and stared up at the blue sky through his windowed ceiling. It was the beginning of the day, but he’d been awake all night and really needed some shut eye. He smiled to himself. _I get to stay here._ He thought. _We saved the neighborhood, and I get to stay here with all my friends._

In the midst of this happy train of thought, another less welcome thought snuck into Arnold’s head. _Does she actually love me?_ He shook his head vigorously as if he could shake the thought out of his brain. He was too tired to deal with this issue right now. _She couldn’t possibly love me. She’s done so many awful things to me._ He closed his eyes. _Always shooting spit wads at me. Calling me names. Taunting me..._ Arnold yawned, drifting off to sleep.

In the weeks that followed, Helga was even meaner to Arnold than usual. She was constantly trying to embarrass him at school, resulting in slight variations of the “feathers glued to his butt” fiasco. April fool’s day was especially bad, particularly the part where she put pudding in his seat. _She clearly hates me,_ Arnold thought as walked to the office to call Grandpa Phil about bringing a fresh pair of pants. _How could I ever have thought otherwise? Our kiss at FTI must have been the result of some weird, girly mood swing._ Remembering the kiss made him blush. He looked around the hallway as if someone walking past might have heard his thoughts.

An hour later he’d blinded her with a contraption disguised as belated birthday present. Of course, he hadn’t meant for the thing to ruin her eyesight. And he tried to make amends by helping her get around and escorting her to the April Fool's Dance. When he finally found out the blindness had only lasted a few minutes and she’d been faking it all night, he felt a strange mixture of annoyance, relief, and amusement. The rest of the night had been even stranger: he was actually having _fun_ dancing with Helga.

On April 2, Arnold brought Helga a real birthday gift – a video game called _The Frozen Tundra Death Warrior 7000._ He remembered her saying how cool she thought the game was last Christmas (thank goodness the price had gone down since then).

In mid-April, Mr. Simmons assigned Helga and Arnold to work together on an English presentation, and the two made plans to work on it at Helga’s house. They had been sitting on the floor in Helga’s room discussing the themes in _How to Kill a Mockingbird_ (and Arnold being astounded by Helga's nonchalant brilliance) for about an hour when Miriam walked in. She announced that Helga’s aunt had dropped by and wanted to see her niece in the Nancy Spumoni snow boots Miriam had bought her for Christmas.

A look of panic crossed Helga’s face. "Uh...I…” she sputtered before pulling it together. “After I'm done with this project, Miriam. Can't you see I'm workin' here?"

“Sweetie, your aunt just dropped by for a quick visit,” Miriam said lazily. “It’ll only take a minute.”

Helga didn’t move. There was a slight edge to Miriam's voice when she spoke again. “You should really wear those boots more often, Helga. I don't think I've seen you in them since I gave them to you. Are they in your closet?” Miriam walked over to the closet, about to open it. Suddenly, Helga jumped up from the floor, ran across the room in a flash, and slammed herself against the closet door to block her mother. "No!” She screamed. “Don't open it!” Helga shot Arnold a brief, frantic look and then turned back to her mother, who appeared to be quite puzzled by her daughter's outburst. “I... I don't have them..." Helga said, guiltily.

Miriam's face grew stern. "You lost them! Helga, I waited in line for hours to buy you those boots! I can't believe you would just go and lose them!"  
"I know, Mom. I'm sorry, it really meant a lot to me that you went through so much trouble to get them." Helga was still holding her arms across the door to block Miriam from entering her closet.

Arnold stared at his books. He felt like he was intruding on a very personal moment. Miriam did not drop the issue. "It sure doesn't sound like it meant a lot to you, Little Missy. You lost them right after I gave them to you, I guess."

"I... didn't exactly lose them.” Helga explained. “I gave them to someone else..."

Arnold furrowed his brow, intrigued by this new information. According to Mr. Bailey from the Federal Office of Information, one of Arnold’s friends had brought him the Nancy Spumoni Snow Boots he wanted (after Arnold and Gerald failed to find them) and convinced him to spend Christmas Eve searching for Mai Hyunh. Mr. Bailey had refused to tell him who it was though.

Helga glanced nervously at Arnold. "I know it sounds bad, Mom, but it was really important. They... needed them more than I did."

Miriam's anger seemed to subside a little bit. She instead returned to her somewhat sad stupor. "Whatever, Helga. We'll talk more about this after your friend leaves. Sorry for interrupting." Miriam walked out of Helga's room and Helga rejoined Arnold on the floor. She picked up her books, careful not to look at Arnold, though he was staring at her intensely.

"So... where were we football head?"

"It was you who gave those boots to Mr. Bailey. So Mr. Hyunh could get his daughter back."

"What?" Helga laughed nervously. "I don't know what you’re talking about."

"It had to have been you! But why did you do it? And how did you even know I was looking for them?"

Helga was glaring at him now. "Arnold, you're talking crazy. I gave the boots to Phoebe. She wanted them really badly. Why would I even care if _you_ were looking for them." Helga clenched her fists, but her hands were shaking. She felt as though she might have a panic attack. Over the past two months her biggest secret had been falling to pieces around her, so she was holding on to every shred of her mean uncaring persona that she could.

"Oh." Arnold's gaze dropped back to his school books. _So it wasn't her? Or is she lying?_ Arnold thought. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Phoebe in Nancy Spumoni snow boots.

"Alright, hair boy. Let's get back to this dumb project. The sooner we finish, the sooner I can get you out of my house."


	2. The Truth Comes Out

"Well, I guess we're all done here." Arnold said about an hour later. "I'll... be leaving then." He stood up and started gathering his things.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out." Helga was still brooding. She hadn't looked him in the eye since the snow boot incident.

Arnold looked out the window of Helga's bedroom and saw that it was pouring rain outside. "It's raining pretty hard, and I didn't bring an umbrella," he said. "Do you mind if I borrow one?"

"Don't have one." Helga snarled, still not looking at him.

"Oh.” Arnold sulked. “Alright. That’s okay."

Helga finally looked up at him, feeling conflicted. _He gave me an umbrella once._ She thought for a moment, and then sighed heavily. _Criminey, if he had asked for anything else..._

"Hold on, Football head, let me check in my closet." Helga walked slowly to the closet and gave Arnold a fretful glance before cracking the door open – just enough to fit through. She slid inside and slammed the door closed behind her.

The umbrella was sitting on the top shelf inside her closet, so Helga had to pull over the stepladder to reach it. She had just grabbed hold of the umbrella when she saw a mouse scurry across her closet floor. Startled, Helga yelped and her foot slipped on the stepladder. She landed on the floor with a thud.

"Helga, are you okay?" She heard the footsteps approaching and the doorknob turning. Frantically she jumped up to grab the knob and hold the door closed, but she wasn't quick enough. "Helg..." Arnold's voiced trailed off as he saw what was in the closet.

A second later Helga pulled the door shut with a loud slam. It was too late. The look on Arnold's face proved that he had seen the shrine. Helga felt woozy. She thought she would either cry or throw up. She held onto the doorknob tightly even though Arnold wasn't trying to get in anymore. They stood in silence on either side of the door for several long seconds.

Arnold finally collected his thoughts and spoke. "Helga, you... you really do like me? I mean _like me_ like me?"

Helga gave no reply. _I said "love," you idiot._

"I... can imagine you're feeling embarrassed... but you can come out. It's okay..." Actually, Arnold wasn't entirely certain that it _was_ okay. A personal shrine to him in her closet seemed pretty extreme. Then again, he knew Helga was a girl with intense feelings. He just had a hard time believing she had intense feelings for _him_. Not positive feelings anyway.

Still no response from inside the closet.

"I'll leave you alone. See you tomorrow, Helga. …Sorry."

"Wait." Helga's voice cracked. _God, I sound pathetic,_ she thought.

Arnold paused, hopeful. The door cracked open ever so slightly and Helga held out the umbrella. Arnold took it, a little disappointed that she wasn't coming out to talk to him.

"Thanks... Bye, Helga."


	3. The Aftermath

The next day at school, Arnold approached Helga in the hallway, hoping they might be able to talk. He held out her umbrella. "Hey, thanks for letting me borrow this."

Helga didn't give him an opportunity to say anything else. She grabbed the umbrella from him, offered a quick "You're welcome," threw the umbrella in her locker, and hurried away.

Helga continued to avoid Arnold all morning - until they had to give their presentation. It was a disaster. They both looked at the ground the whole time and stood way too far apart from one another. Helga sort of grumbled her way through it, barely audible. When it was finally over and the pair took their seats, the class gave a polite clap. Gerald leaned over. "Man, Arnold. What is up with you, today? Did Helga beat you up last night?"

Arnold quickly shook his head and gave his friend the "I'll tell you about it at lunch" look.

In the cafeteria, Helga quietly sat down next to her best friend. Phoebe eyed her quizzically. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Helga looking so distraught.

"He knows, Pheebs."

Phoebe gasped. "That must mean... You told him? Did he react poorly?"

Helga sighed. "It's sort of a long story..." In a hushed voice, she began to tell her friend about the events of the last month or so, starting with Future Tech Industries.

* * *

 

In the opposite corner of the cafeteria, Gerald was interrogating Arnold about his strange behavior that day. "Alright, Arnold. Spill," he said.

Arnold poked at the food on his tray with a fork, not eating any of it. "Something happened when I was at Helga's yesterday... Actually something happened a while ago. I thought maybe it was nothing… but then last night, I found out it definitely wasn't nothing."

"Arnold, you're not making any sense. Start from the beginning."

“Okay, here goes…”

* * *

 

Phoebe sat looking pensive as her friend finished her story. "I'm sorry, Helga. I know how hard you've tried to keep this a secret."

"He must think I'm a looney." Helga squeaked. She was trying desperately to fight back tears. _You can't be a crybaby at school! No one will ever let you live that down._ "He's probably sitting over there telling Tall Hair Boy what a wacko I am."

"I'm sure that's not what he's saying, Helga. Arnold is far too nice."

Helga turned around and chanced a look across the cafeteria at the two boys. At the same time, Arnold glanced over and briefly caught her eye. Helga's face turned bright red and she quickly swung back around. "Oh God, what am I gonna do?"

"Helga, are you sure this is such a bad thing? Now that it's out in the open, you can finally find out how he feels about you."

"I don't want to know how he feels about me." she said slumped over in her chair and staring at her untouched food. "If he knows about my mushy, romantic interior and he still decides that he hates me..." Helga's voice trailed off.

"But what if he decides he likes you?"

"How could he?! I'm terrible to him."

"Well, perhaps now is your chance to be nice to him." Helga looked up at Phoebe, unsure about this suggestion. Phoebe shrugged. "What have you got to lose?"

* * *

 

Arnold didn't get a chance to talk to Helga at all that day. At the end of school day, she bolted out of her chair and hurried home.

Gerald checked in with his friend as they walked home from school together. “How are you doing, man?”

“I’m just confused… I’ve been so distracted all day. I barely heard anything Mr. Simmons was saying.”

“Yeah, I noticed. He had to say your name _five_ times before you went up to the board to do that division problem. That’s two more times than usual.”

“And I barely got to play dodgeball because I kept zoning out and getting hit.”

"So…” Gerald shook his head in disbelief “Helga Pataki has a crush on you? Mm mm mm. Who woulda known?"

Arnold suddenly perked up. "Phoebe!" He looked at Gerald excitedly.

"Uh... what now?"

"If anyone would have known about this, it would have been Phoebe! Gerald... maybe you can talk to her? Help me figure out what I should do?"

Gerald sighed. "Arnold, why do you always gotta bring me into your personal business?"

"Well, you are my best friend.” Arnold stated. Gerald gave him the side eye.

“Please, Gerald?" Arnold pleaded. Gerald rolled his eyes and nodded.

"But don't make it too obvious that I'm trying to get help!" Arnold said. "Just see what information you can get from her."

* * *

 

Gerald called Phoebe that night for their regular phone date. Gerald didn’t often bring up the subject of Helga with Phoebe because, honestly, he wasn’t a big fan of his girlfriend’s BFF, but Arnold had seemed so desperate that Gerald planned to broach the subject anyway. Similarly, Phoebe wanted to get some answers about Arnold's reaction, in hopes of making her friend feel better about the whole situation.

"Hello, Gerald."

"Hey, Phoebe"

There was a brief pause. Neither knew how to bring up the subject.

"So... " they both began at the same time.

Phoebe cleared her throat.

Another pause.

Gerald finally started talking. "I guess you heard about our friends'… situation?"

"Yes, I’m afraid so."

"So Helga actually likes him? I never would have guessed it."

"How does Arnold feel about it?"

"Really confused.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“How long have you known about this anyway?"

"Helga never officially told me, but as I recall I figured it out in preschool. She eventually realized that I knew and we've talked about it in code since then. Until today."

"Whoa whoa whoa. So you're saying that Helga Pataki has had a crush on my boy since preschool?"

"She has... I probably shouldn’t have told you that… and please don’t tell Arnold. Helga would be even more mortified than she already is."

"And you didn't tell _me_ about this!?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell, Gerald. I never wanted Arnold to find out through someone else. I'd always hoped that she would eventually have the confidence to tell him herself."

"Well apparently, she did in March, even though Arnold never mentioned it." Gerald said, sounding slightly annoyed. "I _have_ wondered why Helga randomly showed up at FTI when we were trying to save the neighborhood."

"Yeah, Helga didn't tell me about that either until today." Phoebe laughed. "I can't believe she confessed to him back then and he somehow found a way to convince himself that it wasn't real! Boys are so oblivious!"

"Hey now!" Gerald said, defensively. "The fact that she's always so mean to him didn't help."

"I know, she's a little bit unstable." Phoebe giggled, then suddenly grew somber. "Especially right now..."

"So... what should we do? Arnold asked me to get information out of you..."

Phoebe thought for a moment. "Can... can you just make sure he knows that Helga is a lot more than she appears to be. She can be mean and stubborn, but it's really a cover up. Because she's... fragile and passionate and actually really sweet. Ask him to try not to hurt my best friend?"

"Ah, you don't gotta worry about that. Arnold's the most upstanding guy around. He wanted me to talk to you about it _because_ he's trying not to hurt her."

"Yes, that does sound like him."

"Who knows? Maybe they'll work it out and fall madly in love and become our rivals for cutest couple in our senior yearbook." Gerald joked.

"Oh, I don't think they could ever compete with us. But I'd be happy to watch them try."


	4. The Journal

At school, Gerald and Phoebe each gave their friends a brief report.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Arnold. It’s true. She likes you. According to Phoebe, you just need to take some time and figure out how you feel. But you don’t really need to do that, do you? I mean this is _Helga_ we’re talking about. You know how you feel about _her_.”

“I… I thought I did.”

“Seriously, man? You’re not thinking straight.”

“Hey! No one’s ever liked me before!”

“Sure they have. Lila liked you for like a week. And Timberly wanted you to be her boyfriend.”

Arnold scoffed. Gerald rolled his eyes. “Okay, Arnold. Take all the time you need to figure out if you’re in love with _Helga Pataki_.”

“C’mon, Gerald. No one said anything about love.” _Except she did, didn’t she?_

A warning bell rang, signaling that the school day would begin in one minute. Arnold turned toward Mr. Simmons’ classroom.

“Oh, one more thing.” Gerald said, stopping him. “I was also supposed to tell you that Helga is ‘more than she seems.’ She’s not just a mean bully or whatever.”

Arnold nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I knew that.”

* * *

 

For her part, Phoebe confirmed to Helga that Arnold did not think she was a freak and that he felt confused. “Confused is much better than appalled, right Helga? There’s hope.” she said, unsure if she believed it. Then she reiterated her advice to Helga to be nicer to Arnold. In a way, Helga took Phoebe up on this advice. She was, in fact, perfectly kind to Arnold – when she wasn't avoiding him at all costs. The two talked very little over the next week.

Then one day, something happened that helped Arnold put Helga completely out of his mind. He found his dad's journal. He spent the next two days reading it with his grandfather at home, and thinking about it all day at school. Arnold was sitting on his stoop, feeling sad that there was nothing left to read, when he finally discovered the map. _This could tell me where they are?!_ He screamed internally. Arnold stumbled up the steps to the boarding house. "Grandma! Grandpa! You have to see this! I found a map!" he yelled.

Grandpa ran out of his bedroom in a robe, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Jumpin’ Jehosafats, Arnold. What are you hollerin’ about?”

“There’s a _map_.” He said again, shoving the open journal into his grandfather’s hands. Grandpa studied the map – his emotions quickly cycling through bewilderment then delight and finally dejection. He sighed. “I don’t know, Arnold. It doesn’t look like it tells us that much. I mean, it’s not like there’s a big X that says ‘Parents Here.’”

“No, but he put little stars next to the temples that mark the border of the Green Eyes’ land and the place where I was born. We could start there! Maybe we could find the Green Eyed people and they’d help us out!”

“I guess so…” Grandpa said, furrowing his brow. “But maybe we should just send this map to the police down there. It could help them, ya know?”

“Grandpa, they’ve been searching for years and haven’t found anything. They’re probably not even trying.”

“I'm sorry, Shortman. I just don't know where we would come up with the money to send you. And somebody would have to go with you of course…

Arnold's face fell, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. "Maybe I can raise the money?" he said.

Grandpa looked concerned. He didn't want see his grandson lose that optimistic attitude, but it seemed so far-fetched. "...Maybe, Shortman. But I don't want you to get your hopes up..."

"I know Grandpa, but I have to try."

Phil looked at his grandson sadly. He wanted to believe there was hope to bring his son and daughter-in-law back, but he didn’t want to lose another family member to the jungles of San Lorenzo. Finally, he sighed. "Okay, Arnold, we’ll see what we can do. But get some sleep now. We'll brainstorm tomorrow."


	5. A Philanthropic Solution

Generally, Helga didn't care much for being ball monitor. But this particular week she lucked out, because being the ball monitor meant that for once she was right where she needed to be: lugging dodge balls past the boys’ restroom just after recess, on her way to the recreation closet. That's when she heard Arnold's voice coming from inside, so she stopped to listen.

"And you won't believe what I found at the back of the journal, Gerald! A map of San Lorenzo! I think Dad drew it up himself!"

"That’s pretty cool... but your extreme level of excitement at this has me a little worried that you've got some wacky plan in the works."

"Gerald, I can go there and find my parents!"

"For real, Arnold? You realize that you are ten years old right?"

"Hey, we..."

Gerald cut him off. "Yes, Arnold, it is impressive that a couple of kids were able to break into an evil businessman's company, steal a recording of him committing a crime, and drive a bus across the city in the nick of time to save the neighborhood. _BUT_ going into the jungle halfway around the world to find missing people who could have been kidnapped by _truly_ evil people... it's just plain crazy man."

"Well, I can't just do nothing."

Helga heard Gerald sigh. A long silence ensued.

"Alright…” Gerald said finally, not sounding very sure of himself. “How can I help?"

"Well you could use your talents as a salesman to help me raise $3000 to go down there."

"Three thousand dollars!" Gerald exclaimed. "I'll help you out as much I can, man. But I don't know how we're gonna come up with that kinda dough."

Helga heard a flushing sound. She took this as her signal to carry on with ball monitor duty and not get caught spying.

* * *

 

That evening while Helga and Miriam ate dinner, Big Bob sat at the table flipping through a catalog and grumbling to himself.

"Whatcha lookin' at, B?" Miriam asked – though she didn’t really sound all that interested.

"Ah, my dumb marketing department keeps telling me we have to do some sort of philentropy.”

“You mean philanthropy, Bob.” Helga said as she stuffed her face with macaroni and cheese.

“Yeah, yeah, phiLANtropy. They say we gotta improve our image in the community or whatever. I'm trying to find some lousy cause to support that'll make us look good."

Suddenly, Helga had an idea. She quickly swallowed the mac and cheese, almost making herself choke. "I know what you could do!" Helga exclaimed, with a little too much excitement.

"What, Olga?"

Helga didn't bother to correct him. "You could sponsor a... an educational trip for the students at my school. We've been studying this place... uh San Lorenzo. It's in Central America. But if we could actually _go_ there, I mean that's really how you learn, right? Experience stuff?"

"Hmmph." Big Bob huffed. "I don't think sending my own daughter on a vacation is going to help me improve my image."

"But it would be my whole class, Dad. Not just me.” Helga reasoned, calling him “Dad” in hopes that it would make her seem more endearing. “Supporting education is really in right now."

"Sounds expensive. I'll just buy a cow for some starving kid."

_New approach._ Helga thought. "Hey! You gotta spend money to make money, _Beeper King_." She said the last words in a sarcastic tone, hoping to rouse her father's competitive side.

Big Bob thought for a moment. "Oh, what the hay." He said, "Saves me from having to look through this catalog."


	6. A Life-Changing Announcement

The next day Arnold came to school feeling somewhat dejected. He and his grandfather hadn't really come up with any good ideas for fundraising. Saving up the money was going to take an awfully long time.

Arnold continued brainstorming throughout the day, not paying much attention as he sat through the day’s history and math lessons. Then something unusual happened. During the English lesson, Principal Wartz walked into the classroom with none other than Helga Pataki’s father. Wartz cleared his throat to capture the attention of Mr. Simmons, who was still speaking animatedly about haikus.

“Oh, Principle Wartz! I didn’t hear you come in. And Mr. Pataki! Welcome. Did you need Helga for something?”

“No, no, Mr. Simmons. We’re here because Mr. Pataki has a very interesting announcement that I think you will all be thrilled to hear. Go ahead, Bob.”

“Alright, listen up, kids.” Big Bob began (in what Mr. Simmons would call an outdoor voice). “Big Bob’s Beepers has been looking for uh…” he glanced at an index card in his hand, “ways to expand our philentropy and do some good in our community. I know your little class has been studying Central America, so I’m sending you all there to experience it. We’re paying for everything. I’ve got a travel agent working right now to plan your educational trip to this placed called, uh…”

Anticipation hung in the air as Bob squinted at the writing on his card.

“The Republic of San Lorenzo.” He announced.

Arnold stared at Big Bob in shock while the other students began to chatter excitedly.

"Oh, wow, Mr. Pataki. I… I don’t know what to say!” Mr. Simmons briefly considered telling Bob that the class had not, in fact, been studying Central America, but thought better of it. “Thank you so much for this generous gift."

"Don't thank me, thank my daughter..."

Helga panicked. _Don’t tell them it was me!_

"Olga! She's the one who came up with the idea."

Helga sighed with relief. For once, Big Bob forgetting her name had come in handy.

"Well, on second thought, I guess you _can_ thank me. I mean it is my company that's paying for the whole danged thing."

The men at the front of the room seemed to have forgotten about the children, only addressing one other as they began to discuss the as-of-yet murky details of the trip. Arnold still stared straight ahead, dumbfounded. He was brought out of this trance when Gerald lightly punched him on the arm. "Wow, man! Can you believe your luck?!"

He really couldn't. _How is that even possible?_ Arnold thought. _Olga Pataki asks her dad to send the class on a trip to San Lorenzo, all expenses paid, just two days after I find the map? It's too good to be true._ Arnold looked over at Helga, who had slid down in her chair and was looking a little embarrassed.

Arnold recalled Big Bob Pataki calling his younger daughter by the wrong name on multiple occasions. _Snow boots, saving the neighborhood, and now this?_ Arnold was suddenly wondering how many times Helga Pataki had been his secret savior.

* * *

 

The last weeks of school were a whirlwind. The class would be leaving for San Lorenzo just two days after school let out. As one would expect, the kids were jumping off the walls in their excitement, and Mr. Simmons was finding it difficult to get them to focus on their final projects and lessons. He altered their curriculum to focus more on Central America and San Lorenzo and found the students to be much more attentive.

One afternoon, as Simmons was reviewing the “types of government” and “heads of state” in Central America, Helga felt something hit her in the back of the head. She turned around and saw Arnold a few seats back, pointing at the ground. Looking down, she discovered a wadded-up piece of paper. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she opened it. Arnold had never sent her a note before.

“Sorry, I haven’t told you this yet” the note began, “but thanks. For everything.” Helga gave Arnold one brief, wide-eyed look before quickly facing forward once again. For the first time in weeks, the panic in the pit of her stomach was replaced by familiar, mushy feelings. _Oh, Arnold. Always so kind. So considerate. And here I am ignoring and avoiding you, having done little to deserve your gratitude._ She made a commitment in that moment to make this a fantastic trip. She wouldn’t be merely _nice_ to Arnold. Oh no, she was going to be openly helpful and friendly. And more importantly, she was going to do anything she could to help that goofy football head – that lovable, optimistic, pure ray of hope in this dark world – get his parents back.


	7. On the Way

“I can’t believe this is happening, Gerald. We’re really going to San Lorenzo!” Arnold was bursting with energy as he walked down the aisle of the airplane looking for his seat. “We’ll have to strategize on the way there.”

“Arnold, we’ve been strategizing for the past three weeks.” Gerald smiled and gently punched his friend on the shoulder.

Arnold stopped and checked his ticket. “Here we are, Gerald. Row 17. You want the window seat or the aisle?”

“Actually… uh, I’m in row 18.”

“What? But we signed up to sit next to one another.”

“Yeah…” Gerald shrugged. “Phoebe and I got Mr. Simmons to change it. But don’t worry. We’ll be right behind you.”

Arnold furrowed his brow. “If you’re sitting with Phoebe... That means I’m sitting with…”

Arnold looked up to see Helga stomping down the aisle, yelling "Outta my way!" As she pushed Eugene into a seat.

“Um… are you in row 17, Helga?” Arnold asked, just before she was close enough to push him out of the way too.

“Yeah. What’s it to ya? Ow!” Helga felt someone jab her in the back. (Phoebe. Reminding her to be nice)

Arnold showed Helga his ticket and watched the blood drain from her face. Helga turned around to face her best friend. “Phoebe, what’s the deal? You and me are supposed to sit together and share that can of Pringles you bought in the airport.”

Phoebe gave Helga a vague explanation similar to Gerald’s, and, by way of apology, handed her the can of Pringles. Two minutes later they all had their carry-ons stowed away and were sitting in the proper seats.

 _Okay, Helga ol’ girl. This is what you’ve prepared for. Being nice. Talking to Arnold as if you don’t hate him. Everything is fine._ Helga chewed on her lip and stared at the seat in front of her, obviously not as prepared as she intended to be _. I just thought I’d be starting the whole friendly thing after we’d arrived in a foreign country…_

Helga took one determined breath and turned to the boy sitting beside her, who was fidgeting with the cord of his headphones. “Sooo…” she began, “Excited for the trip?!” She cringed. It didn’t feel right to be this cheery.

“Huh?” Arnold jumped. He blinked at her, unsure of whether she had actually spoken. He saw her mouth moving now but couldn’t make out the words over his music. He hadn’t expected her to talk to him after weeks of utter silence.

Arnold removed his headphones and pressed the stop button on his CD player. “What did you say?”

Helga’s eyes narrowed. “I said, ‘Are you excited for the trip?’” she grumbled. The question didn’t come out so cheerful the third time around.

“Oh, uh… yeah! Definitely. I can’t wait to get there!”

“What…” Helga began, unsure of how she would finish the sentence, “…are you most excited about?”

“Uh…” Arnold furrowed his brow. He knew their agenda by heart, but he hadn’t given much thought to whether there was anything on it he actually wanted to do. He’d only studied it to discern the best opportunities to sneak away from the rest of the group. _Just pick something._ He thought. “The white water rafting should be cool.” Now that he’d said it, it did sound cool. Too bad he’d probably miss it. “Which part are you most excited about?”

“Um…” Helga couldn’t think of a single thing the group was supposed to do in San Lorenzo. She hadn’t looked at the agenda at all. Truthfully what she was most excited about, and the only thing she had thought about doing on this trip, was helping Arnold in any way she could. “Oh, you know, people watching. I wonder if the people there do the same dorky stuff that people in Hillwood do when they think no one’s watching. Or will they do different dorky stuff?”

Arnold laughed. It seemed genuine. Helga pulled anxiously at one of her pigtails, then stopped when she realized what she was doing. She’d never had that nervous tic before, had she?

“So you enjoy spying on people, huh?” Arnold asked, smiling.

“What’s that supposed to mean, football head?” Helga snarled. Phoebe kicked the back of Helga’s seat. _Crimney, Pheebs!_ Helga thought. _Stop listening in!_

Luckily, Arnold hadn’t taken offense. He laughed, “I mean I know that it was you who asked your father to send us on this trip. I don’t know how you found out I needed to get to San Lorenzo, but I’m grateful anyway.”

Helga wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She pulled on her pigtail some more and looked down at her lap.

Arnold lowered his voice. “But I guess that means you know that white water rafting isn’t really what I’m most excited about.”

Helga shrugged.

Arnold leaned in close to her. “I mean, you know why I really wanted to come to San Lorenzo, right?” He whispered. “To find my parents?”

 _Alright, Helga, no more denying. Honestly is the best policy right now_. “I know you found your dad’s map.” She whispered back, turning toward him. She was close enough to kiss him if she wanted to. (Of course she wanted to.)

"Yeah, it gave me some clues about where I could look for my parents, or at least get some information about them." Arnold was speaking so quietly that he almost had to touch his lips to her ear for her to catch what he was saying. The obvious downside being that although she could hear him, she couldn't actually concentrate on what he was saying. "There’s this group of people who live in the jungle – the Green Eyes. My parents helped them out a few times. I'm hoping they can give me some answers, so Gerald and I are going to try to find them while everyone else is sleeping."

"You’re not asking for help from the authorities?"

Arnold shook his head. "My grandparents have been in touch with them for years. They've never helped."

Helga nodded. "So... you're going into a wild and dangerous jungle to locate people who may or may not want to or even be able to communicate with you, in search of two people who have been missing for years. And you're doing all this without any adult supervision?"

"...Yes?"

"Cool. Can I help?"

"Uh, yeah!" Arnold exclaimed, forgetting to whisper. Nadine and Rhonda, who were seated across the aisle, raised their eyebrows in confusion at his sudden outburst. Arnold waited for them to look away before continuing. "It would be great to have your help. I mean, you _were_ super helpful when we were dealing with Future Tech."

Helga blushed at the mention of that little adventure. Arnold, having momentarily forgotten the incident on top of the FTI building, now blushed as well. He wondered if he should say something about all the stuff that had happened between them recently, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about it yet. It was all still a big jumble of confusing thoughts and feelings. The two kids stared at the seats in front of them for several long uncomfortable seconds, until Arnold finally pulled out his carry on from under the seat in front of him.

"Do you want to see the map?" He asked.

"Uh.. Yeah." Helga said, grateful for the change of subject.

Arnold reached into the bag and pulled out his father's journal, gingerly turning it to the final page. He looked down at the map for what must have been the thousandth time in the last few weeks. "I know this whole thing is probably futile. My parents... I know they're probably dead." Arnold's voice faltered. He knew it was a strong possibility, but he had never admitted it aloud. "But... I feel like I owe it to them to try and find out what happened. It would be nice to finally have some answers..."

Helga hesitated, but decided to speak her mind. "You realize... we might not find the answers you're looking for right?"

"Yeah, I know." Arnold said, now looking out the plane window. "But at the very least, I'll get to see the place where they met and spent so much time..."

He was silent for a moment. "You okay?" Helga asked.

Arnold took a deep breath and turned back to her. And then he smiled – that pure, optimistic smile that Helga loved so much, and which was so rarely directed at her. "Yeah. I'm really great, actually."


	8. Arrival

"Arnold…"

Arnold was racing through the jungle as fast as his legs could carry him. He had the feeling that something followed close behind him, but he couldn't tell who or what it was. Thick trees enveloped him on all sides. He couldn't see where he was going, but he couldn't stop running.

"Arnold…"

Someone was yelling for him in the distance. He just needed to follow her voice and he'd find his way out of the seemingly never-ending trees.

"Hey, Arnold!"

Arnold woke from his sleep with a start. Helga was waving a hand in his face. "Look alive, football head! We're here!"

It was dark when the students filed out of the plane and onto a small, cramped bus that took them to the airport. The group passed through security and retrieved their luggage without incident, then filed onto another, larger bus which drove them two short miles to their hotel. As they climbed off the bus, they were surprised to find six police officers lined up outside the hotel.

“Ho-la! A-mi-gos!” Mr. Simmons greeted the officers in over-accentuated Spanish.

An officer approached Mr. Simmons, with the thumb of one hand hooked around a belt loop just above his gun – a subtle gesture to hint that he was not to be considered an amigo. “We’ll need to search everyone’s bags.” The officer said.

“Oh, really? That seems unusual. We all passed through security with no problem…” Mr. Simmons laughed nervously. “I mean they’re just a bunch of kids.”

“Exactly. And what better way is there for a drug lord to sneak his supply into our community than through innocent children?”

“Excuse me, Robert.” Principle Wartz (who had come along as an additional chaperone) approached with his arms folded across his chest. “Is this man giving you trouble? Perhaps I could have a conversation with him.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Principle Wartz.” Mr. Simmons said nervously. “I’d rather not start a confrontation.” He turned his attention toward the students. “Alright class! It looks like we just have one more little security check before we can go to our rooms.”

“Ahhh, but I’m hungry!” Harold yelled.

“I know, Harold. We’ve arranged for boxed meals to be sent to your rooms, so you just have to wait a few more minutes while these nice officers take a look in your suitcases.”

This announcement was followed by general grumbling, but most of the students were too tired to cause a fuss. (And those who weren’t got scolded by Wartz).

Arnold waited his turn patiently until an officer finally motioned for him to approach. The officer rooted around Arnold’s suitcase and, apparently finding nothing of interest, set it aside (leaving all the contents in disarray). Arnold was about to zip up the bag and walk away when the officer spoke again. “I need to look in your carry-on too,” she said.

“Oh, right.” Arnold said, placing the carry-on bag on the counter. The officer continued her search with a bored expression on her face. Arnold held his breath as the woman picked up his father’s journal and leafed through it. The officer’s expression changed when she flipped to the final page – the one with the map.

“What’s this?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at Arnold.

“It’s… just my dad’s old journal.”

The officer was examining the contents of the book more closely now. “It’s all about San Lorenzo. Your dad’s been here?”

A ball of anxiety was forming in Arnold’s gut. He was having trouble sounding casual. “Y…yeah. But, I mean, it was a long time ago.”

“How long ago?”

“Um… about ten years ago I guess.”

“Wait here,” the officer ordered as she walked away. When she returned several minutes later, she didn’t have the journal with her. “Sorry,” the officer said. “We had to confiscate that item.”

“What? Why?!” Arnold could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and the anxiety gripped his stomach. By this point, most of his classmates were finished having their bags checked and were watching, wondering what the drama was about.

The officer shrugged. “Just following protocol.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Arnold was trying – unsuccessfully – not to yell. “It’s just a journal! It…” His voice cracked. “It was my dad’s,” he said, more quietly - pathetically. His stomach hurt. His throat felt tight. And his face was all scrunched up from his attempt not to cry in front of all his friends. The police officer walked away, unconcerned.

“Hey, stop!” Arnold yelled after her.

Mr. Simmons approached and laid a hand on Arnold’s shoulder. “Arnold, what seems to be the problem?”

“She took my father’s journal.” Arnold wiped away one tear before it could run down his cheek.

“Oh, Arnold, I’m so sorry. But don’t worry. I’m certain I can convince them to return it to you when we leave, okay?”

Arnold looked at the floor. “I guess,” he said, unconvinced.

The last of the students completed their final security check and the chief officer gave the all clear to Mr. Simmons, who rallied everyone once again. “Okay class, we’re ready to go to our rooms now! A big thanks to the local police,” he said, gesturing toward the group of officers. “For uh… doing your jobs to protect your very special community and for being here to welcome us. You are all very… especial!” Mr. Simmons emphasized the final word with two half-hearted thumbs-up. “Alright, students, you all should have your room assignments so come forward in an _orderly_ fashion and I’ll give you your room key.”

“Me first!” Harold pushed past the other students to get to Mr. Simmons, knocking Eugene backward over his suitcase in the process.

Arnold stood in the back of the mob of children, still trying to get his emotions in check. He briefly caught Helga’s eye, and they both immediately looked away. Why did it feel more embarrassing to cry in front of Helga than anyone else?

“Hey, man. You gonna be okay?” Gerald wheeled his luggage over to stand by his best friend.

“No.”

“Don’t worry about it. Mr. Simmon’s will get it back for you before we go home, just like he said.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Arnold clenched his fists. The sadness he was feeling was beginning to evolve into anger. “And besides. We need that map _during_ the trip, not at the end of it.”

“Nah, we’ve been staring at that map for weeks. Every detail is etched into my brain.” Gerald pointed to his head to emphasize this point. “Don’t sweat it. Let’s just get some sleep tonight, relax a little tomorrow, and then tomorrow night we’ll put our plan in motion.”


	9. The Break In

A knock on the hotel room door drew Arnold out of his slumber. It took him several moments to realize where he was. The knocking continued. Gerald groaned and held his pillows over his ears to drown out the noise. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Arnold stumbled over to the door and opened it to find a rather grumpy looking Helga on the other side. 

“Criminey, football head, I’ve been knocking for a full ten minutes out here.” 

“I… I barely heard it.” Arnold said, surprised.  

“Well, I wasn’t trying to wake up the whole class, doi.” 

Arnold, still trying to wake up fully, blinked at Helga in confusion. Helga was dressed in all black, complete with a pair of black boots and a black beanie over her hair, which was pulled back in a discrete ponytail. Arnold tried to remember if he’d ever seen her without her pigtails. He suddenly felt very silly in his blue-striped, button-down pajamas and house slippers. 

“Earth to Arnold? Are you gonna stare at me for another half-hour or are you gonna invite me in?” 

“Oh… uh… come in, I guess.” 

Helga marched in and Arnold closed the door behind her. As soon as he did, Helga flipped on the light switch and Gerald sat up in his bed, squinting at the brightness. “What the heck are you doing here, Pataki?” 

“We’re gonna get Arnold’s journal back, aren’t we?” 

“What?” Arnold said, suddenly feeling more alert. “How are we going to do that? We have no idea what they did with it.” 

Helga shrugged, feeling awfully proud of herself. “I’ve got a lead.” 

Gerald sighed. “What are you talkin’ about, Helga?” 

“Well, while you two slackers were getting ready for bed, I was schmoozin’ a police officer, feigning interest in his work or whatever, and he told me all sorts of stuff. Like the fact that the east-end police station – where they keep all their reports and arrest records and _confiscated items_ – closes at 1am and they just keep the central station open, which is several miles away. So basically, there are no officers around there.” 

“So we might be able to get in and get my Dad’s journal back!” 

“Woah, woah. Just hold up." Gerald said. "Even if there aren’t any officers there, they’ll still have security cameras. And probably alarms.” 

Arnold was unfazed. “We’ve dealt with security cameras before.” 

* * *

Ten minutes later – after the boys changed out of their pajamas and into some suitable clothing – Helga, Phoebe, Arnold, and Gerald were all walking along the street behind their hotel, which just happened to be only seven blocks from the east-end police station. Phoebe yawned loudly, still half asleep. "What was it you wanted my help with again, Helga?" 

Arnold and Gerald gave each other a worried look. They hadn't realized Phoebe didn't know what was going on. 

"Breaking into a police station." Helga said confidently. 

That woke Phoebe up. She stopped walking immediately. "What?!" She exclaimed. 

"Shhh, Pheebs! Keep your voice down." 

"Helga, that's absurd!" Phoebe whispered. 

"We're just going to get Arnold's journal back." 

"What do you need _me_ for?" 

"You're the only one who can speak Spanish. We might need you to read something for us." 

Phoebe shook her head nervously. "Helga... I can't do this. I'm sure you all will be fine without me. Or better yet, how about none of us do this." 

“Geez, Phoebe. I figured you would want to be included.” Helga said, placing her hands on her hips. 

It was at this point that Arnold stepped into the conversation. "I'll understand if you can't help, Phoebe. But I'm getting my dad's journal back. They had no right to take it in the first place." 

Gerald grabbed Phoebe's hand. "Hey, we don't all need to go in." He said, trying to reassure her. "That would just make things harder, wouldn't it? Maybe Phoebe and I can hang out outside and keep watch." 

"I don't know if being an accomplice is much better..." Phoebe said, looking longingly back in the direction they had come from. 

"Pleeeease, Phoebe." Helga pleaded. A non-verbal message seemed to pass between the two girls. Phoebe eventually sighed and nodded her head in agreement. 

"Great." Helga said, reaching into a bag that was draped across her shoulder. "The pagers I stole from my Dad should work perfectly for this." She handed out pagers to each of them. "We'll be able to communicate easily with these. Contacts are already programmed. You can send short messages – 50 characters max. I’ve set them to vibrate so they don’t make as much noise." 

They arrived at the police station before they’d worked out any sort of feasible plan, so they tried looking around the building for a way in. Phoebe and Gerald hung back cautiously. Arnold circled the building, observing quietly, while Helga charged forward and tried to open doors and windows. 

“Helga…” Phoebe whispered, hoping her friend would show a bit more restraint. 

“What?” Helga said. “I told you there’s no one here.” 

It was true. No guards seemed to be around. Arnold couldn’t even seem to locate any security cameras, though it was possible that they were exceptionally well hidden. Still, no cameras didn’t mean there were no alarms. He was a bit worried that Helga might set one off. 

Finally, he noticed something. “Hey!” he called to the others. “Come over here.” The other kids gathered round and Arnold pointed to the roof of the police station. “There’s a window up there.” He said as quietly as possible. 

“It’s probably locked like all the others.” Gerald said. 

“Worth a shot.” Arnold replied. “Here, Helga. I’ll help you up.” He held out his hands for her to step up, and she clambered up onto the roof. “You did it football-head!” Helga exclaimed, seeing that the window was cracked ever so slightly. Helga took a bit more caution now, prying the window open slowly and peering down into the dark station below, trying to identify cameras. She saw two pointed toward the main entrance of the building. “The cameras won’t catch us.” She called down quietly to the others, then wiggled her way in through the window and dropped several feet to the floor. 

“You okay?” Arnold said, looking down at her. Gerald had already given him a boost up to the roof. 

“I’m fine. Just get in here already. I’ll take care of the cameras.” As Arnold worked his way in (he had to turn his neck at an extreme angle to make his head fit), Helga stuck chewing gum to the lenses of both the cameras. 

“We made it.” Arnold said, now picking himself up off the floor and dusting himself off. “Let’s get my Dad’s journal back.” 


	10. First Clues

Helga and Arnold began their search for the journal, checking first on the desks and in drawers in the big open office they had landed in. Arnold was hoping the officers had simply set it down somewhere, rather than taking the time to lock it away. Helga shuffled items around, with little thought for covering her tracks. Arnold was a bit more careful to put things back as they were. Fifteen minutes passed and the pair had spread out to cover other offices in the building, with no luck. They came across a room adjacent to the main office which was locked and dead-bolted. It seemed to be a storeroom for weapons. “Good thing they lock these up better than the rest of this place, huh?” Helga joked. Finally, at the end of a long hallway filled with file cabinets, they found another locked door marked with a Spanish word: Déposito.

* * *

 

While Arnold and Helga were searching, Phoebe and Gerald strolled around outside the police station, trying their best to look casual.

“I hope you aren’t disappointed in my unwillingness to participate in this burglary of a police station, Gerald.” Phoebe said, blushing.

“Nah. I didn’t love the idea either. Honestly, I don’t know why we even need to get the journal back. Me and Arnold basically have the thing memorized.”

“I suppose that it holds significant sentimental value for Arnold...” Before Phoebe could finish her thought, the pager in her pocket began to buzz. “DEPOSITO?” it read. Phoebe thought for a moment, then wrote  back, “STORAGE.” It seemed a more likely translation that the literal “deposit.” Just as she was hitting the send button, she heard footsteps coming around the corner. The next moment, a bright light was shining in their faces, and they heard a voice.

“¿Quién anda ahí?”

* * *

 

“Yep, it’s the storage closet all right.” Helga announced, reading Phoebe’s message. Arnold was peering in through the small, narrow window in the door, but couldn’t see his dad’s journal inside.

“How do we get in?” he asked, trying to turn the knob for the tenth time, with no success.

“Step aside, Arnoldo, I’ve got this.” Helga said proudly, puffing out her chest. She pulled a pin out of her hair and stuck it into the key hole. She hoped Arnold would be impressed by her knowledge of picking locks. Unfortunately, a minute later Helga was pulling the bobby pin out of the knob with a sigh of defeat. “Uh… I guess this lock is a bit more sophisticated than the one on Olga’s bedroom door,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. 

* * *

 

“You the kids from the United States?” the voice asked.

“ Eep !” Phoebe hid her face in her hands and Gerald shielded  h is eyes from the bright light still shining in their faces.

“Sorry,” the man said, lowering his flashlight. Gerald recognized him as one of the officers who had checked their bags at the hotel. He had noticed the man staring at Arnold after his journal was taken away. 

“Why are you here?” the officer questioned.

Gerald found himself unable to think of a clever lie. “Oh, you know, we’re just… chillin?”

“Chillin?” the man repeated, obviously unclear of the meaning.

“¡Estamos dando un paseo!” Phoebe blurted out.

“Un paseo…”

“Yeah!” Gerald noted his agreement, although he had no clue Phoebe had just told the man they were taking a walk.

“Our station…” The man waved his light over the police station. “Did you come here to see it?”

Phoebe could have sworn she saw the officer glance toward the half-open window on the roof. “Oh! Is this the police station? We had no idea!” She spoke loud enough (she hoped) for her friends inside to hear. “Lo siento , señor . We’ll be on our way.  We j ust wanted to take a stroll through the neighborhood!” Gerald and Phoebe began backing away from the officer, but he wasn’t finished speaking with them.

“Would you like to know why I became a police officer?”

Gerald gulped. He was not, in fact, very interested in why this man became a police officer. “Yeah… sure.”

“Because I wanted to… how do you say… proteger?”

“Protect” Phoebe squeaked.

“Ah, yes . Protect. I wanted to protect people. The people of San Lorenzo… and other people too. I have been a police officer for 20 years. I used to feel that I was doing a good thing. But lately…"

The officer’s voice trailed off. The children were wide eyed and silent, unsure of where this was going.

“I saw they took your friend’s book.” He said, looking at Gerald. “I am sorry about that. You know I almost wish I could go in there and get it for you.”

Gerald and Phoebe shouted at the same time, waving their hands frantically. “Oh no! We’re good!”

“No need for that, sir!”

“Well, of course, I can’t do that. It’s against the rules.” He said, smirking at them. Phoebe thought to herself that he must know their friends were inside the station, breaking the law. He was toying with them. She was supposed to be a genius, but she couldn’t think of any way to get them out of there without the officer finding them. “And besides...” he continued, looking toward the station, instead of at the two kids. “If I _ did _ want to get the book back, I’d have to go into the big office by the front doors and find the black box on the uh… escritorio?”

“Desk…”

“Yes, the desk. And I’d have to remember that the code is 7051 to open the box and get the key to the top …  cajón ?”

“Drawer.” Phoebe whispered, barely believing what was happening.

“And after that I’d have to look for the storage key in the drawer and then go look for the book in the storage room… It’s a lot of work, no? And like I said, it’s against the rules.” The man shrugged. Phoebe and Gerald were speechless. “Well, I should continue my uh… patrol.” He said, snapping his fingers as he thought of the word. “And you should probably go back to the hotel. Thanks for helping me practice my English.”

With that, the officer turned and walked away.

* * *

Helga and Arnold had heard some commotion outside, but they couldn’t make out any of what was being said. They had quickly hid under a desk in one of the offices. (There wasn’t really anywhere better to hide. At least this way Helga got to be smashed up against Arnold in a tight space for a few minutes before she got caught and was thrown in prison.) When Helga felt the pager at her hip buzzing, she was certain that it was going to warn her that officers were coming in to arrest them. But instead, Phoebe was sending her instructions?

And sure enough, those instructions led them to the key that unlocked the room of confiscated items. The room was packed with junk that had probably been thrown in there years ago and never touched again. For a moment Arnold worried that they would have to search for hours through everything to find his dad’s journal. But almost immediately, Helga pointed at a hardback book sitting on top of a stack of boxes just inside the room.

“That it?” she asked.

“Yes!”

Helga grabbed the journal (since it was a bit out of Arnold’s reach) and handed it to him. “Well that was easy, huh?”

The pair walked back toward the lobby through the hallway full of file cabinets. Emerging from the other end of the hallway, Arnold realized that Helga was no longer beside him. He turned to see her opening file cabinets and scanning the contents inside.

“Helga, what are you doing?” Arnold whispered. He glanced around the room as though a police officer was finally going show up and bust them.

“We’re already here, aren’t we? We might as well poke around and see if they’ve got anything on record about your parents or that Los Hombres character.”

“La Sombra.” Arnold corrected her. Helga shrugged and continued snooping. Arnold tentatively opened the draw next to him and glanced at the labels on the files. “All of this is in Spanish. How will we even know if we’ve found something?”

“Doi. Look at the dates.”

They continued to open drawers in silence for several minutes. Finally, Helga found what they were looking for.

“Here it is! All the files in this drawer are from October and November, one year after you were born.” Helga started pulling out file folders and sifting through them. “Here’s one. La Sambra , right?” she asked, pointing to a name in the title of the first document. 

“Yeah! That’s him!” Feeling only a little guilty, Arnold pulled out his backpack and stuffed the file folder inside. The pair looked through dozens of files, trying to identify any words or names that might make sense to them, without much luck. 

“Alright, Arnoldo. Just one folder left. You wanna take a look?” 

Arnold took the folder from Helga’s hands and began inspecting its contents. By now, all the words were starting to blur together. He wished Mr. Simmons had taught them less about the history of San Lorenzo in the last few weeks of school and more Spanish words instead. He was almost ready to give up when he saw “Miles y Stella Shortman ” on a page of bulleted paragraphs. Arnold stared at the page until Helga removed it from his hands, saying “Let me see!”

“They really were here.” Arnold said, a little dazed. “I mean… I knew they were. But sometimes Grandpa’s stories can be so out there that I was little worried he’d made the whole thing up.”

“What? Of course they were here.” Helga said placing the paper back in its folder and stowing it away in Arnold’s backpack. “Did you think we came all the way down here for nothing?”

Arnold couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “I thought we came down here because your dad was paying for an _ educational trip _ ? Such a strange coincidence that it was just the place I needed to go. Don’t you think, Helga?”

Helga scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, football head. Now let’s go already.”

“Whatever you say, Helga.”


	11. San Lorenzo

Getting back out of the window they had come in through was a complicated affair involving climbing on desks and a lot of jumping, but they finally made it out.

“Great, you're back finally." Gerald said as Arnold and Helga climbed back out of the window. " _Now_ can we get some sleep?”

All four of them slept for as long as possible before Mr. Simmons finally started banging on their doors. "Students!" He called from the hallway. "We have a full day of educational activities planned, so you need to get out here and join your classmates!" Even when rebuking them he sounded cheery.

After a quick breakfast at the hotel, the students were loaded into a bus and driven through the streets of San Lorenzo City. The capital of the Republic of San Lorenzo was a small city, but it was lively. Street vendors lined the sidewalks, selling fruits and vegetables, small trinkets, and local dishes. Little three wheeled taxis crowded the roads, transporting people to their destinations. Cyclists weaved in and out of cars as they sped down steep hills. The children held their faces against the windows of the bus, trying to take in everything they could.

The class spent the morning at the San Lorenzo History Museum. Normally in a museum, Helga might have wandered away from her best friend, who tended to get a bit over-excited about learning new things. They had visited the Hillwood Science Center together once, and Phoebe had quizzed her about the exhibits and made her go back to read over little facts and anecdotes that she'd missed. It was both endearing and endlessly annoying. But today Helga stuck close to Phoebe since Gerald was also hanging around her, meaning Arnold was nearby as well.

"Did you read that paragraph about the founder of San Lorenzo City, Helga? It was so interesting!"

"Uh... yeah, yeah. He was a cool guy."

"The founding of the city is credited to a woman, Helga."

"Uh... whoops. Guess I wasn't reading very carefully." It wasn't that Helga didn't care to read what was in the exhibits, but she kept losing focus and ending up watching Arnold read instead.

Thankfully, Gerald (unintentionally) rescued Helga from having to go back and view the bit about the founder again. “Hey Arnold! Look over here.” Gerald called, pointing to an exhibit on one wall which showed pictures of lava flows and thick volcanic ash settling over the streets of the city. “This is the eruption your dad talked about in his journal, right?”

Arnold examined the exhibit then placed his finger under a date on the wall. “Yep. That’s my birthday. I was born in the middle of all this.” Arnold spoke quietly, so no one outside their small group would hear. No reason to let others know he had a special connection to this place.

“You were born here?” Phoebe whispered, intrigued. Arnold nodded. He sighed, letting his finger slide down the wall. “I can’t believe my parents made it through that. I can’t believe they survived half of the extreme situations the found themselves in. They were really tough. And smart. They had to be, to survive so many adventures. Whatever it was that kept them from coming home… it must have been a really big deal for my parents not to find a way out of it. Or… maybe their luck finally ran out.”

Gerald placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "No way, man. If they're anything like you, I'm sure they pulled through."

As the others continued to the next exhibit, Helga stayed behind. She looked around to check that none of her classmates were in sight, then pulled out her golden locket. "Oh Arnold, my love," she said to the photo inside the locket, "What cruel deity has given you this heavy burden to bear? Yours is the most kind and honest soul, and surely the least deserving of such torture! If only I could lift this weight from your shoulders and carry it myself, but alas, I cannot! I can only hope that you will allow me to stand by your side – your unworthy but adoring assistant – as we face this dreadful mystery together!"

Helga was wrapping up her impassioned monologue – eyes closed, hand over her heart, and locket held high in the air – when the sound of heavy breathing in her ear pulled her away from her thoughts. She turned to see Brainy once again standing behind her.

“Hey.” Brainy said, wheezing heavily.

Helga quickly hid her locket and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Brainy... I promised I wasn’t going to hit you anymore, but you’re really trying my patience. Please don’t get in my way this week.” She stared him down for a moment to make her point clear, then turned around and headed after Phoebe and the boys. Brainy, who was beginning to get used to this change in their routine, waved to her back as she walked away.

Throughout the rest of their tour of the museum, Arnold looked for references to La Sombra or the Green Eyed People but could not find mention of them anywhere. He found only a few fleeting references to “river pirates.”  Finally, he decided to ask a nearby museum guide what she knew about the pirates.

The woman bent down to talk to him like he was a small child and hadn’t been alive a _full ten years_. “You like pirates, little guy? Well unfortunately you won't find too many of them around here. Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?”

“Mhm. Their leader was captured years ago. There are still a _few_ pirates here.” She held up her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart to emphasize the miniscule threat which the river pirates now posed. “But they’re not violent like they used to be. I know it’s not as exciting, but we’re a lot safer now!”

“Who was their leader?”

“Ooo, he was a terrible man. His name was La Sombra. In English, it means “the Shadow.” The woman waved her fingers at him and spoke in a “spooky” voice.

"He was captured?"

"Yep! Almost ten years ago now. So don't you kids worry."

Arnold wanted to keep pressing her about La Sombra, but Lorenzo chose that moment to ask about the Republic of San Lorenzo's GDP. The museum guide was obviously more impressed by this question than by Arnold's curiosity about pirates, and she became wrapped up in a discussion about imports and exports and the fact that San Lorenzo City makes up two thirds of the small country's economy.

* * *

The class ate lunch in a cozy, local restaurant (in which Harold found a new love in beef empanadas and nearly made himself sick by eating so many), then were ushered back onto the bus by Mr. Simmons and Principle Wartz. Their next destination was the city zoo, which showcased Central American animals, especially the critters found in the local jungles. Arnold really wanted to watch out for useful information here, but he was also anxious for the day to end so the search for his parents could begin.  

Meanwhile, most of the other children were having a blast at the zoo. Eugene crouched in front of a pond and tried to strike up conversations with the colorful fish. Thankfully the pond was shallow, so he didn’t get hurt when he inevitably fell in. Curly got in a screaming match with some howler monkeys, while Lila cooed at the adorable tamarins. Sid, Stinky, and Harold tried to amuse themselves by tossing pebbles at a tapir (extra points for anyone who could hit it square on its large snout), but they stopped after Sheena gave them a stern lecture about being kind to animals.

Rhonda, trying to be a supportive friend, followed Nadine into the insect house. Nadine ogled the little bullet ants and the colorful “Thorn Tree Hoppers” jumping around in their habitat. Rhonda didn’t find the exhibits to be as disturbing as she had expected. In fact, she found the “Giant Helicopter Damselfly” to be quite pretty. But Rhonda wasn’t expecting to turn the corner of the insect house and see a zookeeper holding a cockroach the size of her palm, right out in the open without the protection of a pane of glass between her and this enormous bug.

“Uuugh!” Rhonda screamed involuntarily.  

Nadine laughed. “What’s the matter, Rhonda? It’s not gonna hurt you.”

“This one won’t.” The zookeeper informed them. “Though if you see one in the wild, I’d advise you not to pick it up. It might carry diseases.” Rhonda groaned while Nadine brought her face close to the bug.

“It’s so cool though!”

“I’ve got a tarantula here too. Would you like to see her?” The zookeeper asked.

“Of course!”

Rhonda watched with trepidation as the zookeeper dipped her arm into a dark metal box and lifted the enormous furry spider out of it. “Now this little lady’s name is Delilah.” The zookeeper said. “You can find spiders like her in the jungles around here. She’s mostly harmless, but she can inflict a pretty nasty bite if you provoke her. That’s why it’s important for me to be calm when I’m handling her.”

“Isn’t she beautiful, Rhonda?”

“She’s a monstrosity, Nadine. Can we please go to the gift shop now?”

“Fiiine, Rhonda.”

* * *

The class wrapped up their day with dinner in a large outdoor pavilion where a live band was playing lively Latin pop. Many locals had come for food and entertainment as well and noted the foreigners with mild interest. Arnold decided he would try asking a few people for information about what had happened to La Sombra. The loud music would cover up his conversation and prevent Wartz or Simmons from overhearing. He greeted the couple at the table nearest him and asked if there were pirates in San Lorenzo. They both gave him a shrug and an apologetic look that said, “We don’t understand English.” Arnold thought he might need Phoebe to translate, but a moment later he heard a voice from the table behind him.

“Why do you want to know about pirates?” The woman who had turned around in her chair to address him was a middle-aged, forlorn-looking individual, eating alone.

Arnold chose his words carefully. “I’m just… interested. A guide at the history museum told me there used to be pirates led by an evil man named La Sombra, but he was captured and the pirates aren’t such a problem anymore.”

The woman scoffed. “Well I suppose that’s technically true.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s true that La Sombra was captured, and the pirates seem to have gotten less bloodthirsty since then. I wouldn’t say they aren’t a problem though.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

The woman hesitated, clearly skeptical of why this outsider was so curious about their pirate problem. But then she seemed to decide it was harmless and launched into her story. “Ten years ago, San Lorenzo City was a dangerous place to live. The pirates were worse at that point than they’d ever been before. They’d take over our cargo ships and kill anyone who didn’t immediately give them what they wanted. Tensions were high in the city for a while. We were all angry at the companies who refused to ship needed goods to us, and at the police who couldn’t seem to control the situation. La Sombra was an infamous name back then. He was known to be a greedy, violent man, so of course we were all overjoyed when he was captured.”

“How did they capture him?”

“His main ship was wrecked nine years ago and it seems La Sombra was thrown overboard. Some guards found him washed up on the river bed. The officers who took him into custody were given a big parade, though in my opinion they didn't do much to deserve it. They just got lucky. Anyway, La Sobmra has been in a prison a little ways outside town ever since then. The pirate raids completely stopped for a few years, and we thought maybe we were done with them for good. But a new leader took La Sombra’s place - Fantasma they call him – and the raids started again. They don’t kill anymore, but the raids still keep other cities from trading with us. It hurts the economy, which means fewer good jobs. Some people are so desperate to make some money… they’ve joined the pirates.” The woman had stopped looking at Arnold, and was instead staring remains of her dinner.

“Did you… know someone who joined them?”

The woman nodded. “My son, Santiago. He sends me money every month. He doesn’t say who it's from, but I know it’s from him.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

The woman smiled ever so slightly as she stood and slung her purse across her shoulder. “No, it’s alright. Thanks for chatting with me, young man. I get lonely sometimes. But I should be going now.”

Arnold wished her a good evening and watched her leave.

* * *

Exhausted from a full day, the students loaded onto the bus once again to be transported back to their hotel. On the way, Arnold carefully removed from his backpack the files that he and Helga had taken from the police station. He gave them to Phoebe, who was less than pleased that they had stolen from law enforcement, but helped out anyway by examining the pages for useful information.

“These documents verify what you were told about La Sombra being captured and locked away.” Phoebe began. “Better yet, they offer a definitive location. According to this, La Sombra is being held in a special prison along the Rio Clara, in the middle of the San Lorenzo Rainforest Preserve.”

“That’s great! Maybe we can go talk to him.” Gerald suggested.

“The document with your parents’ names isn’t quite as beneficial…” Phoebe said. She looked at Arnold apologetically, wishing she could tell him something useful. “It’s just a list of missing persons. Some of the people are marked as found. Not Miles or Stella though.”

Arnold sighed, disappointed, and starred at his parents' names on the paper. “Well, it’s more information than we had this morning.”

Helga leaned across her best friend to join the conversation, and looked Arnold straight in the eyes so he would know she was with him. “So what’s our next move?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give everyone a little glimpse of the other characters in this chapter. I hope you all liked it!


	12. Enter the Jungle

Arnold, Gerald, and Helga met outside the hotel, one hour after their peers had gone to sleep. Helga had changed from her usual pink dress into cargo pants and a pink t-shirt. Gerald and Arnold were still wearing the same thing they’d worn all day – shorts and t-shirts. Arnold opened his father’s journal to the page with the map, although it was too dark for the others to see.

"Gerald and I had planned for our first objective to be locating the Green Eyed People, since the map shows where the borders of their territory are. They were friends with my parents so they might be willing to help us."

"But," Helga interjected, "now that we know this La Sombra guy has been locked up and we know the location of the prison, we might be able to find him and get some information out of him."

"Exactly." Arnold said. "It will probably be difficult to get him to talk... but he'll be easier to find. And the prison is closer than Green Eye territory.”

Helga crossed her arms over her chest, contemplating. “So, are we hoping to make it back here before anyone realizes we’re gone? Or do you knuckleheads really think that Granola Boy won’t send the entire San Lorenzo police department after three missing kids?”

“We’re not knuckleheads, Helga.” Gerald said, annoyed. “Obviously we’ve thought about that.”

“We’ll keep watch on the time and make it back if we can.” Arnold said. “But if we get a good lead, we’re not going to stop our progress to come back here.”

“Phoebe will cover for us as long as she can.” Gerald added.

Helga shrugged, not entirely convinced, but also not especially concerned. “Oookay.”

The trio were just about to leave when they heard footsteps approaching. Arnold spun around, half-expecting to see Mr. Simmons there to end their adventure before it had even begun. Instead, he saw Phoebe, dressed in black pants and a long-sleeve blue top.

“I changed my mind. I’m going with you.” She announced.

“Are you sure, Pheebs?” Helga asked, surprised at Phoebe’s sudden change of heart.

“Yes. You’ll need me out there. I’ve been studying up on the animal and plant life in this jungle. I think I can be useful.”

“That’s great!” Arnold said. “Thanks, Phoebe. But who’s going to cover for us if we don’t make it back by morning.”

“I told Rhonda that we all had explosive diarrhea.”

“Hey!” Helga protested.

Phoebe ignored her. “I asked her to let Mr. Simmons know the reason if none of us came out to meet the group in the morning, and to please not disturb us.”

Gerald sighed. “Explosive diarrhea. We’re never gonna live that down.”

Arnold came to Phoebe’s defense. “If it works, I’ll be happy.”

Phoebe looked at the boys disapprovingly. “Now before we go any further, the two of you need to go back to your room and put on some pants to protect your legs.”

“But it’s hot!” Gerald complained.

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine. While it’s true that the jungles in this area of the continent are less dense and less dangerous than those farther north, we should still be prepared.”

Gerald and Arnold obediently returned to their room to change into jeans. Once they were out of earshot, Helga asked Phoebe why she’d decided to come along.

Phoebe shrugged. “I care about Arnold too, you know.”

Unexpectedly, Helga gave her best friend a hug. “Thanks, Pheebs.”

“You don’t have to get all mushy on me, Helga.” Phoebe teased.

Helga laughed. “I mean it. This whole adventure will be a lot more fun with you around.”

The boys returned, now properly dressed, and the group hailed a tuk-tuk – a small three wheeled cab. Arnold handed the driver a wad of cash and pointed out their destination on Miles’ map. Thankfully, the driver didn’t seem concerned about a bunch of ten-year-olds asking to be taken out to the middle of nowhere. The four kids crammed into the little cab and the tuk-tuk driver drove them out of town and through the farmlands, all the way to the edge of the jungle.

“Gracias! Adios!” The man said, then drove away.

“Well, this is it.” Arnold said. “Now we just have to follow along the river.”

Arnold’s friends nodded to signal that they were ready, and together, they stepped into the jungle.


	13. Trouble

"And that's how the Green-Eyed people saved my parents from falling off a waterfall to their deaths." Arnold said, having just finished recounting the story.

"That's fascinating, Arnold." Phoebe said as she scurried to keep up with the rest of the group. Being shorter than her three friends, it was a bit of a struggle. "What else did your father's journal tell you about the indigenous people inhabiting this jungle?"

"Hold on a second." Helga said crossing her arms. "If these folks are so into saving people's lives or whatever, why don't we just... get into some trouble. Maybe they'll show up and we won't have to go looking for them."

Gerald shook his head at Helga is disbelief. He elbowed Arnold playfully. "What do you know, Arnold? She's a bold kid too."

"We're not going to purposefully put ourselves in danger." Arnold said.

"Any more than we already are..." Gerald mumbled to himself.

"For all I know," Arnold continued, ignoring him, "the Green Eyed people might have been wiped out after the second outbreak of the sleeping sickness. If my parents weren't able to get an antidote to them before they went missing... it's a real possibility."

Helga huffed, upset over being dismissed. "I'm not saying we should _actually_ risk our lives."

Gerald couldn't help but mumble again. "Any more than we already are..."

"We could set something up. Like a fake life-or-death scenario."

"That's not the worst idea you've ever had." Phoebe said, contemplating.

Helga placed her hands on her hips, determined to make them see the brilliance of her plan. "It wouldn't be that hard. We just pretend we're stuck in quick sand or being eaten by a carnivorous plant. Then we yell for help like the hopeless children we are. If any of these people are around... they’ll come out of hiding and save us right?"

“It is plausible that we might be suffering from heat exhaustion and dehydration.” Phoebe suggested.

“Perfect. So we just have to yell for some water,” Helga said, clapping her best friend on the back. “Water, please!” She yelled, falling to her knees and raising her arms in the air to plea to whoever might be listening. “Won’t someone help us find water! How will we ever survive?!”

The others, being of a less theatrical nature, just yelled “help!” or “water!” This continued on for several minutes. Then Gerald stopped suddenly and held out his hand. "Guys,” he said, trying to get their attention.

“Water!” Arnold and Phoebe continued.

“My thirst is so great! And this heat is too much to bear!” Helga shouted, now lying on the ground.

Gerald tried again. "Uh, guys!"

" _What_ , hair boy?"

"Is that jaguar growling at us?"

Arnold, Helga, and Phoebe looked in the direction Gerald was pointing. Sure enough, there was large spotted cat laying across a tree branch, barring its teeth and making a very threatening sound. The cat pulled its front paws underneath its shoulders and raised its hind end like it was about to pounce.

“Run.” Arnold commanded, simultaneously pulling Helga up from the ground, and the four kids took off through the jungle.

They ran as fast as they could, no longer just _pretending_ to fear for their lives. Helga, who had seemed so brave before, screamed at the top of her lungs. As if things weren’t bad enough, Phoebe’s foot got caught in a protruding tree root, and she fell. Gerald, being the closest, tried to help her up, but there was no time. The jaguar was 15 feet away, and the kids were certain they were about to become cat food.

Then, in the blink of an eye, someone landed in front of them. The person waved their arms wildly, holding a stick in one hand and a snake in the other.

"Woah, kitty! Calm down. You want the snake? Go get the snake!" The snake was flung into the trees, and thankfully, the large cat followed it.

They were all momentarily stunned, and it took a few seconds for them to stop holding their breath. Gerald was the first to break the silence. "What kind of crazy idea was that Helga?! That cat almost bit Phoebe's head off!"

"Hey, bucko! Don't blame me! You were yelling right along with me!"

Arnold was staring in awe at their savior – a girl three or four years older than them. "Don't fight, you two.” Arnold said to Gerald and Helga. “We're okay now. Thanks to... um, excuse me miss, what’s your name?"

The girl turned to face Arnold, and the first thing he noticed were her bright green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! I updated when I said I would. I'm so proud of me.


	14. A New Friend

"Nayara."

Arnold and Gerald’s jaws hung open as they stared at the older girl who had just saved all their lives.

"Naya what?" Gerald said finally.

"My name. It's Nayara." The girl said, smoothing out her blue dress.

"Nayara..." Arnold repeated, sounding very impressed. "Thanks for saving us."

"You really shouldn't wake sleeping jaguars."

"Why was it sleeping anyway?” Helga grumbled, not especially pleased with the way Arnold was looking at this new girl. “Aren't jaguars nocturnal?"

"Actually, Helga, jaguars would more accurately be described as crepuscular – having peak activity at dawn and dusk." Phoebe removed her foot from where it was lodged underneath the tree root and stood. "Ouch!"

"Are you okay?” Gerald ask, reaching out to keep her from falling again.

“I…I’m fine.” Phoebe said, extending her hand to greet Nayara. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Nayara. I’m Phoebe.”

“Hi Phoebe.” Nayara smiled as she shook her hand.

“The name’s Johanssen. Gerald Johanssen.” Gerald said, standing up straight in an attempt to make himself look older.

Arnold blushed as Nayara turned to him. “Arnold.” He said, dreamily. He shook her hand, holding on to it just a tad too long.

Helga folded her arms across her chest. Rather than introduce herself, she asked abruptly. "So are you one of those Green Eyes?"

"What? No, she can’t be. She talks just like us.” Gerald said. “Wait, you aren't, are you?"

"Well... we don't call ourselves the Green Eyes. But yeah."

Arnold and Gerald looked at each other, unsure. Was this girl really one of the people Miles had described in his journal? He had written that they were a very private people, never interacting with outsiders. But this girl just jumped out in front of them and started speaking to them in English. She couldn’t _really_ be one of the Green-Eyed People, could she?

“What do you call yourselves?” Phoebe asked, wanting to be accurate.

“Sorry. That’s not something I can share with outsiders.” Nayara replied, shrugging. “You can keep calling us Green-Eyed People.”

That sounded a little more like something the people in Miles’ journal might say, but Gerald was still skeptical. “If you’re a Green-Eyed person… why are you talking to us? In English?”

“What? You don’t want to talk to me?”

“No! No, I meant...” Gerald began, flustered. Thankfully, Nayara laughed.

“I’m just kidding! I know what you meant. You outsiders don’t see my people around much do you? And you kids are like, really outsiders, huh? You’re not from San Lorenzo, are you?”

“We’re from the United States.” Gerald said.

“Wow, I’ve never met someone from the U.S. before.” Nayara said, intrigued.

Arnold was started to get excited now. “We’re here because my parents disappeared on a trip to San Lorenzo nine years ago!” He exclaimed. “They came back here to help cure your people after an outbreak of a sleeping sickness.”

“Sleeping sickness? There was a disease like that when I was a baby, but the elders never mentioned an outbreak nine years ago. And I think I would’ve remembered. I’d have been 6 by then.”

“Can you take us to your people? Maybe they can help!” Arnold begged.

“Woah. Sorry, kid. There’s no way I can do that. I would get in so much trouble for bringing outsiders into our territory.”

“Could you… bring someone to us? Someone who might know something about my parents?”

“Ehhhhh... I don’t think so. You see, most of my people aren’t like me. A couple of us can speak Spanish and English, and we go into the city sometimes to trade for things we need. I was just there today.” Nayara lifted the leather bag that rested on her shoulder. A clanging sound indicated that pots and pans were inside. “But the rest of my people… they don’t like to be seen by outsiders.”

“But…” Arnold began, “my parents helped your people get back a sacred relic and they cured the sleeping sickness at least once. And the Green-Eyed People gave them a pendant and a pig to show their appreciation! My dad thought that you had accepted him and Mom into your family. I’m sure… there’s got to be someone among your people who would want to help us…”

Nayara fidgeted with her backpack, obviously uncomfortable with this whole idea. “I… I don’t know…”

Phoebe, who had sat down on the ground again, raised her hand like they were in class. “Could I make a suggestion?” She asked. Everyone looked at her. “Perhaps we should continue toward our previous objective and Nayara could accompany us for a while. We could provide more of an explanation of what’s happened as we walk.”

“That’s okay with me.” Nayara said, relieved that they were no longer talking about meeting up with the Green-Eyed People.

“Really? You’ll come along with us?” Arnold asked. It wasn’t quite what he was hoping for, but he would take any help he could get.

“You obviously need my help.” Nayara laughed. “Seriously, you all were making so much noise. Even before you tried to trick me into showing myself.”

“You heard that, huh?” Gerald asked.

“I’d already been following you for about a mile when you hatched that little scheme,” she teased. The boys blushed.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re big loudmouths.” Helga said. “Let’s get moving already. I wanna beat some sense into that pirate.”

“Pirate?” Nayara asked.

“We’re going to the prison where they keep La Sambra.” Gerald informed her. “We think he had something to do with why Arnold’s parents disappeared.”

“Have you heard of him?” Arnold asked, eagerly.

Nayara scowled. “La Sambra? Yeah, I’ve heard of him. I’m not a fan.”

“Because he stole La Corazon?”

“How do you know about that?!”

“My dad wrote about it in his journal. He and my mom got La Corazon back from La Sambra after he took it.”

“I’d… rather not talk about this.” Nayara said, eyeing Arnold suspiciously. “I agree with Helga. Let’s get moving.”

Phoebe stood once again, wincing as she put weight on her ankle. “But first,” Nayara said, “Let’s get that ankle bandaged up. I think I have some fabric in my bag we could use…”

Phoebe cut her off. “I brought a compression wrap,” she said with a sigh. She seemed reluctant to have her injury treated, but she reached into her own bag and pulled out the wrap. Nayara helped her wrap the ankle, and then the group continued their journey.

They’d wandered away from the river while being chased by the jaguar. Nayara guided them back toward its edge and they followed along it once again, though they couldn’t actually see the river. The trees in this area grew right up to the edge of the ravine in which the water flowed, forcing them to travel several feet away from the edge, surrounded by trees on all sides. If they hadn’t heard the rushing water below, they might scarcely have noticed a river was there. Despite the darkness, Nayara moved silently through the trees and the underbrush – proving that she really was an expert at getting around in the rainforest. The others stumbled along clumsily behind her.

As they walked, Arnold filled Nayara in on what he knew about what had happened to his parents. She listened politely and offered condolences, but still gave no indication that she would connect them to a Green-Eyed person who might know more about the situation. Arnold then tried to question her about La Sambra, while Phoebe inquired about how the Green-Eyed people lived, what they ate, the structure of their government, etc. Nayara responded to each question with a single vague sentence. As much as Arnold wanted more robust answers, he still seemed enamored by her every word. Gerald was similarly afflicted. Helga was the only one who was uninterested in what the new addition to their group had to say. Phoebe had to poke her friend every so often when she started mumbling insults under her breath.

They walked for what felt like forever. Nayara tried to make the journey easier for them – holding low-hanging vines and branches out of their way or pointing out things in their path that they might not notice. Still, she pushed them to move quickly. Eventually, Gerald spoke up to ask if they could slow down. “Can we not move so fast? Phoebe _is_ injured after all.” Phoebe turned up her nose at this comment.

“Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick break.” Nayara conceded. “I’d like to get a look at the river so I can pinpoint our location.” She moved in that direction, and the others followed.

Arnold stepped up to the edge of the ravine, soaking in the view of the river below them and the seemingly endless trees lining the opposite side. He once again found himself amazed at the fact that he was even here, and he wondered if he might be mere miles away from his parents at this moment.

Lost in thought, Arnold didn’t notice the large bird swoop down from a branch above him until it was already pecking at his head. He lost his balance, and flailed wildly for something to grab on to before he was sent plunging into the river.

“Arnold!” Phoebe reached out as Arnold lost his footing. She caught his hand – and then tumbled over the cliff along with him. They both landed in the river below. As Helga and Gerald shouted after their friends, Nayara approached the edge of the cliff and dove in after them.


	15. Split up

Arnold gasped for air as his head emerged from the water. The current was pulling him swiftly downstream. Luckily, he wasn’t too far from the shore. The branches of a large tree extended out over the river up ahead. Arnold grabbed onto a branch and held on for dear life. Gradually he began pulling himself over to the rocky, narrow shore. In the chaos of the rapids surrounding him, he saw Phoebe flying down the river at a frightening pace. He didn’t even have time to think of what to do before Nayara had plunged into the water and snatched Phoebe up like a professional life guard.

Nayara swam with Phoebe to the shore that Arnold was now pulling himself onto. All three of them collapsed onto the rocks, out of breath.

“Is… everyone… okay?” Arnold managed to ask between breaths.

“I’m fine.” Phoebe said quietly, sitting up and wringing out her clothes. She didn’t seem to be injured. Not anymore than she already was, anyway. But Arnold noticed blood seeping through Nayara’s dress at her thigh. “Nayara, you’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing.” Nayara said, pressing her hands to the wound. “I just cut myself on a rock when I was climbing onto the shore. Don’t worry about it.”

Arnold decided it was best to leave the issue be. He figured Nayara knew what she was doing out here, so if she said it was fine, it must be.

They couldn’t see Gerald or Helga, since the cliff jutted out over the water, but they could hear Gerald yelling something.

“What?” Arnold yelled back.

Nayara clamped a hand over Arnold’s mouth. “You can’t shout like that! There could be river pirates around.”

“Well then… how do we communicate with them?”

Phoebe was already punching buttons on the pager Helga had given her. “Arnold, does your pager still work? Mine seems to have been rendered dysfunctional by the water.”

Arnold’s face paled. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that their things might have been destroyed. He frantically pulled off his backpack and opened it to examine the contents – taking out his father’s journal first and inspecting it for water damage. Seeing none, he gave a sigh of relief.

“Oh, good. Your pack is waterproof.” Phoebe said.

“Here. We can try this first.” Arnold said, digging through the pack and pulling out a cell phone. “Helga gave it to me before we left. She says it has international calling.” 

Phoebe selected Helga’s contact information and was surprised to find that the call went through.  _I’m impressed, Bob._  She thought to herself.  _You made a cell phone that works in the jungle._

“Arnold?! Are you all okay?” Helga’s voice was fuzzy, but Phoebe could still make out what she was saying.

“It’s me, Helga. We’re fine.”

“Criminy, Pheebs! You all scared me half to death! What do we do now?”

“That’s unclear at the moment. Let me consult the others.”

Phoebe heard Gerald’s voice in the background. “We could dive down there like Nayara did.”

“I think we should avoid doing anything foolhardy. Just hang on a moment.” Phoebe addressed the others at the bottom of the cliff. “So how are we going to bring the group back together?”

Nayara shook her head. “I don’t think we’ll be able to do that for a while. We can’t scale the cliff. I’m not even sure if  _I_  could handle that, so there’s no way you kids could.” This remark prompted something rather similar to a growl from Phoebe, but she allowed Nayara to continue. “Both groups are going to have to continue following the river. Us down here and them up there. This cliff declines eventually, and we’ll be able to climb up to the top then.”

Phoebe relayed this message to Helga.

“But how will we know if we get too far ahead of you?” Helga asked.

“Actually, Helga, I think you all should go on and get to the prison ahead of us.”

“What?!” Arnold and Helga exclaimed in unison.

“We can’t get separated!” Arnold said.

Phoebe shrugged and explained her logic to them. “The terrain appears much more difficult at the bottom of the cliff. There are boulders everywhere that we’ll have to climb over, and it will be especially difficult in the dark. We’ll lose valuable time if you all wait on us. If we don’t finish this mission and get back to the city by morning, Simons will send people out to find us. And as soon as they find us, this adventure is over and the whole class will be on the next plane home. So you two should just keep going. We’ll catch up by the time you’re headed back. I trust that Gerald has enough information to know what questions to ask La Sambra. And Helga, you have the grit to get it out of him.”

Arnold looked to Nayara, hoping that she would shoot down the plan. Instead, she nodded. “Makes sense to me.”

Phoebe turned up her nose. “Well of course it makes sense.” Into the phone she said, “We’re all agreed down here.”

Arnold thought to himself that  _he_  had not agreed to this plan, but he supposed that he was outnumbered.


	16. An Unlikely Pair

Helga picked Arnold’s tiny blue hat up from the ground and placed it gently in the front pocket of her backpack. It had fallen off during his scuffle with the bird and subsequent fall into the river. She felt uneasy about their plan for the two groups to continue separately – partly out of fear for all of their safety and partly because she was supposed to be getting on Arnold’s good side, and how was she supposed to do that if she wasn’t anywhere near him? She would just have to force some extra valuable information out of La Sombra to impress her beloved.

“I guess we better get moving.” Helga said, and began walking without waiting for Gerald to respond. They followed along the river, careful to avoid the edge. The trees were less densely packed in this area, so the children no longer had to swat branches out of their way at every step. Gerald stuffed his hands in his pockets and gazed around, pretending to carefully study the jungle scenery so as not to have to make conversation. Helga, not being accustomed to having pockets, folded her arms across her chest. She felt even more vulnerable around Gerald than she did with Arnold, so she wasn’t too happy with her best friend for leaving her alone with this guy. They traveled in silence for what felt like hours, but was actually about 40 minutes.

Eventually Gerald’s attempt to feign interest in his surroundings turned into sincere curiosity, and he got caught up in the sights and sounds around him. The jungle was much noisier than he had expected, especially with it being nighttime. He tried to distinguish between the hundreds of bird calls, everything from soft chirping to shrill cackling. He heard frogs croaking, primates yelling, and the constant dripping of water from tree leaves high above their heads. Now that he had started paying attention to them, Gerald found the sounds to be wonderfully overwhelming. He wondered if Phoebe was hearing the same things that he was, and thought of how fascinated she must be by it all. She’d always been more curious than him, and despite the danger that he was still _very_ aware of, he felt happy that she had decided to come along.

He was still contemplating this when he walked straight into Helga’s back.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, Geraldo.”

“Well, don’t just stop walking all the sudden, Helga.”

“Look up there.” Helga pointed into the distance over the river. “It’s a boat.”

Gerald grabbed Helga by the arm and pulled her into the cover of the trees.

“Woah! Careful with the merchandise.” Helga said, shaking off his hand. “Yeesh. You’re as skittish as that mule Arnold keeps in his backyard.”

Gerald ignored her jab. “Who do you think that was?”

“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have a chance to get a good look at them.” She said, pointedly.

“Hopefully they didn’t get a good look at us either. They might have been those pirates Nayara was talking about."

Helga's face fell and she realized Gerald had a point. "We should warn the others." she said, reaching into her pocket for the cell phone. This time the call failed, so Helga switched to plan B. "Criminey, the pager isn't working either." She said, pressing the send button for the third time.

They were silent for a few moments, trying to think if there was anything they could do for their friends. There was no way they could make it back to them before the ship did.

Finally, Gerald sighed. "Let's just keep going. Nayara will keep them safe."

Helga grumbled something unintelligible and continued to hit the send button as they began walking once again. Within 15 minutes, the prison came into view. Helga held up an arm to stop Gerald while they were still hidden by the trees. “Alright, how are we gonna sneak in?” she asked.

“Sneak in? Why don’t we just go inside and ask to see the guy.”

“Are you a total dimwit? They aren’t going to let us waltz right in.”

“Ok. Well, if they don’t let us in, then we leave and work out a plan to sneak in. No harm in trying, Helga.”

Helga snorted, clearly skeptical, but she relented anyway. “Okay, we’ll give your half-baked plan a shot.”

“It’s all about confidence, Helga. Just watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the idea of these two having a chance to interact. :) This chapter was going to be longer, but I decided to split it up since the first half was ready to go and I wanted to get something posted for you all. Next chapter should be here soon!


	17. La Sombra

Gerald puffed out his chest and strolled up to the front door of the small prison. Helga followed behind him, her arms still folded across her chest like she couldn’t believe this nonsense. The main door posed no barrier, so they entered into a tiny lobby with just one measly officer sitting at a wooden desk and staring at a computer screen with a bored expression on his face.

Gerald put on his charming salesman voice. “Hello there, good sir. We’re here to speak with a prisoner named La Sombra. Could you kindly point us toward his cell?”

The security guard looked at Gerald as though he had three heads. Unsure if the guard had understood him, Gerald tried to convey his point with his limited knowledge of Spanish. Feeling less confident, he managed to say: “Hola. Donde… La Sombra?”

The guard scoffed at his attempt. “La Sambra cannot have visitors,” he said (in perfectly fine English).

“Ah well, you see, we’re not just any visitors. We’re, uh, staff members with the United States’ Ambassador to San Lorenzo. We just need to ask the prisoner a few quick questions. For reporting purposes.”

Helga rolled her eyes, while the officer stared at Gerald blankly. “You don’t really expect me to believe that an Ambassador’s employees are working on some report in the middle of the night, do you?”

“Yes?”

“What’s the name of the U.S. Ambassador to San Lorenzo?” the man asked.

Gerald did not have an answer to this question, so Helga gave it a shot, just for kicks. “Dr. Percy Shelly,” she answered, straight-faced.

For just a moment, a hint of doubt showed on the guard’s face, perhaps as he wondered why that name sounded familiar. Then he shook his head, muttering “silly kids” under his breath. Out loud he said, “Get out of here before I get mad.”

Not having another reasonable excuse for their presence there, Gerald switched tactics – to bribery.

He looked down, casually examining his fingernails. “What would you say about letting us back there to see that old criminal... if there were something in it for you?” Gerald asked, lifting his eyes to give the man a knowing look.

The officer held Gerald’s gaze for a long moment, then hit a button underneath his desk. There was a static sound as the security cameras turned off. “Like what?” he asked.

Gerald held out his wrist, around which was wrapped a shiny silver watch. “How about a Deluxe Wacko Watch? The brand new - and very rare - luxury edition?” Gerald asked, turning his wrist to allow the gleaming metal to catch the light.

The officer hesitated. “Yeah, that looks pretty nice… But luxury watches don’t hold up out here. Too fragile,” he said, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Now Gerald knew he had him. “Oh, my man, are you in for a treat! I’m sure that a _regular_ watch wouldn’t hold up in this hot, damp environment. But a Wacko Watch? Well that’s different.” Gerald removed the watch from his wrist. “The Deluxe Wacko Watch, luxury edition, is _indestructible_!” he cried. “Heavy rains? No problem!” Gerald dunked the entire watch into the cup of coffee sitting on the officer’s desk. The man gasped, but was silenced when the watch emerged from the liquid still ticking.

“Plagued by dirt and grime?” Gerald plunged the watch into a slice of cake sitting next to the cup of coffee. “Wacko’s high grade stainless steel cleans up easy,” he said, demonstrating by wiping away the cake with his shirt. The watch looked good as new.

“Bit by a snake?” Gerald continued. “No big deal!” He stabbed the watch with a fork, without causing the slightest scratch.

“Crushed under a boulder!? Your arm might not be okay, but your watch will be!” For the pièce de resistance, Gerald laid the watch on the desk, then picked up a small, but heavy, lockbox and slammed it down on top of the watch - which remained unharmed. “ _Nothing_ can break this watch!!” Gerald yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Helga watched this performance with a mixture of awe and skepticism. As impressive as Gerald’s sales pitch had been, she couldn’t imagine the officer ignoring protocol for some silly watch. To her surprise, the officer picked the watch up off the desk and placed it around his wrist. Then he pointed to a hallway across where he was seated. “Last cell on the right,” he said.

Gerald grinned triumphantly and the two children headed down the long hallway.

“Not exactly a maximum-security environment, is it?” Helga mused, once they were out of earshot.

“You’re just jealous because I was awesome.” Gerald said.

“Eh, you did alright.”

The prison was stuffy and poorly lit. And empty. Gerald and Helga saw no other prisoners before they arrived at the last cell on the right, where a man lay on a dingy cot in the corner, with most of his body cloaked in shadow.

“La Sombra,” Gerald said, his voice filled with hatred.

There was no response from inside the cell, so Helga spoke a little louder. “Hey! La Sombra!”

“Huh?” came the man’s gruff voice. He must have been dozing.

Helga had no patience to wait for him to fully wake up. “Alright, listen up, bozo. We’re looking for our friend Arnold’s parents and we’re pretty sure you had something to do with their disappearance. So fess up.”

The prisoner sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Who?”

“Miles and Stella Shortman,” Gerald clarified.

“Those names mean anything to you, bub?”

“I… don’t know.”

Helga scoffed. “What do you mean you don’t know? They’re the folks who came here to help the Green-Eyed People, and _you_ kidnapped them or killed them or something.”

“I’m so sorry.” La Sombra sounded sad and confused, which was not at all what they’d been expecting.

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll tell us how it happened.”

“I wish I could. But I don’t remember.”

Helga was clearly becoming upset, so Gerald stepped in. “We know you interacted with them at least once before they disappeared. Miles and Stella took La Corazon back from you after you stole it from the Green-Eyed People. Ring any bells?”

The prisoner shook his head. “No, no. You misunderstand me. I can’t remember anything about my life before they brought me to this prison.”

Helga scoffed. She was still trying to keep up her tough girl act, but something about the La Sombra’s voice was bothering her. “Amnesia, huh? Convenient excuse.”

Gerald wasn’t buying it. “If you won’t admit what you did to them, then at least tell us what you were doing before you got captured.”

“I really wish I could help you.”

“But you must remember something!” Helga’s tough girl act had faded. She was desperate for La Sombra to give them _anything_ to point them in the right direction.

“C’mon, Helga. This guy’s not gonna help us. Let’s just get back to Arnold and Phoebe.”

Helga reluctantly turned to follow Gerald, but the inmate called out to them. “Hey, listen!”

They turned their heads back to him. “Look, I… I’m truly sorry. For whatever it was I did to your friend’s parents. I wish I could tell you what happened to them. Really, I do. I just can’t imagine ever _killing_ or _kidnapping_ somebody.” His voiced dripped with self-loathing. “I could never do something like that now. After I lost my memory, I must have become a completely different person."

"Different person, huh?" Helga peered at the man through the shadows. "Hey, step over here, why don't you?"

Gerald, suddenly feeling protective, held an arm out in front of Helga. "Don't trust him, Helga."

“I just wanna get a look at him.”

La Sombra left his dark corner and walked over to the cell bars. Helga and Gerald both cocked their heads to the side. "He looks familiar, doesn't he?" Helga mused.

Gerald squinted at the prisoner, thinking. "Yeah, he looks like..."

Simultaneously, the two children turned to one another and exclaimed, "Phil!"


	18. Getting to Know Nayara

Arnold had quickly realized that his hat was missing, and he, Phoebe, and Nayara had searched for it near the place where they fell in the river – to no avail. By the time Phoebe thought to contact Helga and ask if it had fallen off at the top of the cliff, neither their calls nor messages would go through. Arnold sighed, knowing it was a long shot anyway. His hat had probably been carried a mile away by the river by now. On any other day, losing his hat would have resulted in hours of intense moping, but Arnold couldn’t afford to mope right now (at least not _too_ much). He tried to console himself by thinking about how having his parents back would be a million times better than having the hat they gave him.

Arnold, Phoebe, and Nayara continued their journey, travelling slowly along the rock-strewn river bed – a terrain that would have been difficult even in daylight. The older girl helped the others out when the terrain got particularly rough. Phoebe was initially reluctant to accept this help, but as they travelled further and her ankle began to hurt more and more, she became more receptive to Nayara’s outstretched hand. ( _But she doesn’t seem happy about it_ , Arnold thought to himself as he once again felt the bald spot on his head where his hat should be.)

While Phoebe and Arnold were in not-so-great moods, Nayara seemed quite upbeat. She was even a little bit chatty, identifying landmarks along their path. “Oh, see that tributary over there?” She said as they passed a fork in the river. “That connects the Rio Claro to the Río de Oscuridad – River of Darkness. You… probably want to avoid that area.” She also told them about the wildlife and pointed out a few constellations (which were different in the folklore of the Green-Eyes than from what Arnold had learned in school).

Arnold figured he should take advantage of her high-spirits and attempt to broach the subject of visiting the Green-Eyed People again. “So Nayara, have you given any more thought to helping us?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Nayara immediately deflated. “Uh… I’ll help you for as long as you need me,” she said. “But… I really don’t think taking you to the others is a good idea.”

“ _Please,_ ” Arnold pleaded. “I really need their help. I know your people don’t like to get involved with outsiders, but what’s the harm in just letting me talk to someone for a few minutes? Someone a little older who can remember what happened 10 years ago. My parents were friends of your people so I really thought that you all would be willing to help…”

“I’m sorry, Arnold. It’s not that I don’t want to introduce them to you. It’s that… well I’m not sure they would meet with you even if I asked. They might just chase us out of the rainforest.”

“What?” Phoebe asked, surprised. “Would they really do that to you?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that!” Nayara said, not wanting the children to get the wrong impression. “I mean, they would let me come back.” She laughed to herself as she said this, then sighed. “Look, my people love me, okay. They just… tend to think I’m a bit too cozy with outsiders. In the past… I’ve tried to suggest that a few more of us learn Spanish or that we try to set up a trade deal with someone in San Lorenzo, and people haven’t reacted well to those suggestions. My people are afraid of outsiders… For good reason, mind you! Outsiders have been wreaking havoc on our lands for a long time. And they try to steal our things or hunt us down and study us like lab rats. But despite all that, I’m afraid our only hope for survival is to work with the outside world...” Nayara stared into the distance thinking, then shook her head. “I just don’t think I can convince them to meet you. And to be honest, I’m a little afraid they’ll get mad at me if I try.”

Arnold was quiet for a few moments as he considered this. He supposed he would have to accept her answer and be grateful for the help she was able to give. For all he knew, Gerald and Helga would get a great lead out of La Sombra and they wouldn’t even need to meet with the Green-Eyed People. “Okay,” he relented. “But… you’ll keep helping us?”

Nayara smiled. “It’s the least I can do.” Arnold returned her smile.

“What if our group gets separated again and we don’t have you to guide us?” Phoebe asked. “What do you recommend we do in that scenario?”

“You should probably follow the river back into the city at that point.” Nayara answered. “But I have a feeling you’re not going to follow that advise, are you?”

Arnold laughed. “We might go back to the city – if we can make it there by morning when the class wakes up – but we’re not going to stay there.”

“Of course not.” Nayara said. She rolled her eyes lightheartedly.

“We’re actually not as helpless out here as you think, Nayara, despite what our embarrassing display with the jaguar might lead you to believe.” Phoebe said. “I have personally read half a dozen books on rainforest survival and navigation.”

“Really?” Arnold asked, surprised.

Phoebe nodded. “I’ve read books about everything.”

“Hey, I have an idea!” Arnold declared. “Why don’t you just tell us where you’re headed, and if we get separated, we’ll go there so we can find you again?”

Nayara scoffed. “Nice try, kid. You’re just trying to get me to tell you where my people are.”

Arnold grinned, sheepishly. He knew it was a pretty sorry attempt.

“Well it wouldn’t have worked anyway.” Nayara continued. “Home isn’t my first stop.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know where it is yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arnold asked, confused. Nayara ignored his question.

“Well, if you’re not going straight to the Green-Eyed People, then it shouldn’t matter if you let us know where your first stop is, just in case we do get separated.”

“Ehhhh…” Nayara was still skeptical, but seemed to be considering this.

“Here,” Arnold said, stopping to pull a piece of paper and a pencil from his backpack. “What if you write down where you’re going and fold the paper in half. I’ll stick it in my Dad’s journal and I promise not to look at it unless we get separated.”

After a few moments of indecision, Nayara relented. “Alright. I guess I can do that.” She took the pencil and paper from him and wrote a few words, bending her head down close to the page to see in the dark. Arnold held the journal open to the map and Nayara placed the folded paper there. Then Arnold closed the book and returned it to his backpack.

“I should warn you all that if you go to that spot, it’s possible you might run into some of my people.” Arnold gasped, but Nayara held up her hand. “Don’t get all excited now. The people you run into might not be as friendly as me. Actually, they almost definitely won’t be…” Nayara chewed on her bottom lip, looking concerned. Taken her leather bag off her shoulder, Nayara opened a side pocket and pulled out a stone pendant, handing it to Arnold. “If you run into someone else, show them that. Hopefully it will make them more welcoming to you. No promises though.”

Arnold thanked her and examined the token. It had a bright emerald set into tan rock carved with various shapes, and the whole thing hung from a braided, leather cord. “It’s beautiful.” He said.

“We take our art very seriously,” Nayara said proudly. “You probably won’t need to use it. I don’t expect us to get separated again. Once is enough.”

“I’ll make sure to give it back to you before we leave.”

“No, no. Keep it. I insist.”

Arnold smiled, remembering how his father had been given something like this, and placed the pendent around his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. This chapter was hard to write. I hope y'all liked it. I've got three more that are very close to finished, so check back soon!


	19. A Talk Between Friends

Despite losing his hat, Arnold had cheered up immensely since Nayara had given him the pendent. Phoebe, on the other hand, seemed to be in a worse mood the further they walked. Arnold could see that she was limping, yet she seemed irked every time Nayara suggested they take a break or slow down, and especially when she reached over to steady the younger girl as they marched over the rough terrain.

 Finally, while Nayara was a few paces ahead of them, Arnold leaned over and whispered. “Hey Phoebe, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Phoebe snapped.

“Ugh… okay. You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine Arnold. I don’t need you to worry about me.”

Arnold was taken aback by her harsh tone. “I didn’t ask because I’m worried about you.”

Phoebe gave him the side-eye. “Then why did you ask?”

“Well… because you just seem… grouchier than normal.”

Phoebe paused, surprised. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Phoebe bit her lip and kept walking. “Oh, it’s nothing, really.”

They walked for another 20 seconds – during which Phoebe considered whether she wanted to tell Arnold what was the matter – before Nayara held up a hand to stop them. “How about we take another break so Phoebe can rest that ankle. I’m going to scout ahead a bit but I’ll be right back.”

Phoebe glared at Nayara as she walked away.

Arnold noticed the vehement expression on Phoebe’s face. “Ohhh, I get it. You’re upset because you feel like we’re all babying you or you’re holding us back or something. Because of your injury.”

Phoebe sat down on the dirt, smiling suddenly. “Wow Arnold, for you that’s rather observant.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Phoebe giggled, but didn’t answer his question. Arnold sat beside her. “Well anyway, no one blames you for getting hurt. That could have been any of us.”

Phoebe sighed. “Nayara’s injury looks worse than mine, yet she’s still getting around better than me.”

“I’m not so sure.” Arnold said. “She’s walking well, but I see her grimacing a lot.”

“It’s not only about my ankle.” Phoebe continued, sounding more like the shy, quiet girl he was familiar with. “I was the only person in our group who wasn’t brave enough to break into the police station. I was also the one who had to be rescued after falling in the river. I feel as though I’m the weak link in the group.”

“You’re not a weak link! Without you outside the police station to speak with that cop in Spanish, we never would have found the journal. And the only reason Nayara didn’t have to save me from the river is that I just happened to land slightly upstream of a big tree branch that I could grab on to.”

“Thank you, Arnold. I just hope I get another opportunity to actually be helpful.”

“Phoebe, you’re a genius. Having you around is _always_ helpful.”

“Well thank you, but I’m not so sure about that. Honestly, I _knew_ that you aren’t supposed to run from a jaguar, but I was so scared, I completely forgot! And in any case, all the useful knowledge I could provide about the flaura and fauna here, Nayara knows twice as well.” Phoebe’s tone sharpened once again, and she scowled slightly as she spoke. “I wish she wasn’t better than me at everything.”

“Huh? I was under the impression that you liked her.”

“Oh, I do. But… I can sympathize with Helga’s dislike of her. Honestly, I think the way you boys look at her makes us both feel slightly… resentful.”

Arnold blinked, taking a moment to realize what Phoebe meant. It was still difficult for him to imagine that Helga would be jealous of the way he was looking at another girl. Arnold rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “Yeah so… about Helga...” his voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was he wanted to ask about Helga. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” Phoebe said confidently. “I believe she was so certain that if you ever found out how she felt about you, the whole world would end. Now you know and the world hasn’t ended, so she has no idea what to do. Of course, it would help if she had some indication of how _you_ felt about _her_.” Phoebe gave Arnold a pointed look. The implication made him blush.

“Uh, I’m still trying to process it,” He sputtered. “I don’t really know what to think. No one’s ever been in love with me before.”

Phoebe giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Arnold. Someone’s been in love with you practically your whole life. You’re really quite lucky.”

Arnold’s face was feeling hot, and not just from the equatorial climate. Thinking about Helga being in love with him for so long… was hard to comprehend, to say the least. “W…well, what about you? Gerald’s totally in love with you too.”

Phoebe smiled. “Yeah. I’m also lucky.”


	20. Miles

"Who's Phil?" The man in the prison cell asked.

Helga ignored his question, asking her own questions instead. "How long have you been in here?"

"About 9 years I think."

"And you don't remember anything before getting caught by the police and thrown in here?"

"No."

Gerald joined in excitedly. "And those police just told you that you were La Sambra, and you believed them. But they didn't show you proof, did they?"

"No... what are you trying to say?"

"Criminey. I can see where Arnold gets it from." Helga mumbled. Gerald laughed.

"What are you two talking about?" The man pressed them.

"You're not La Sambra!" Helga yelled, clutching at the prison cell bars. "You’re Miles Shortman. The police got it wrong. Or they lied."

"Police officers don't lie." The man said, sounding confused.

Gerald raised one eyebrow. "You are definitely Arnold's dad."

“So naïve.” Helga said, shaking her head.  _My lovable, innocent Arnold,_ her inner monologue began. _Your father is just like you! And now that I’ve found him,_ _surely_ _you’ll have no choice but to fall madly in love with me, the girl who put an end to all your sorrows by reuniting you with your dear, lost dad._

While Helga was lost in her personal thoughts, Miles was trying to process this new information. "You mean I'm not a bad guy?" 

"Nope.” Gerald said, confidently. “You're a good guy with a good kid. His name’s Arnold."

"I'm really a dad? I can't believe I'm a dad." A smile spread across Miles’ face, but quickly faded. "I can't believe I could forget about my kid. And... presumably my wife?”

"Yep. Stella."

"Stella." he said the name softly, letting it sit on his tongue. "What a beautiful name... Where are they? Can I meet them?"

"Arnold's here in San Lorenzo with us. As for Stella... we don't know where she is.” Gerald said. “She disappeared at the same time you did."

Miles took a deep breath, "Well if I've got a family out there, I better go find them." And he opened the door to his cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! They found Miles! I know, I know... amnesia is a lazy plot device. But I did research before I started this story on people who went missing for years and were later found alive, and there are only a few possibilities for how something like that happens, you know?


	21. Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a little bit violent. It's not graphic or anything but I thought I'd warn y'all just in case. Since this is an action oriented story, there will be some chapters here and there that contain fighting, but I'll put a note at the beginning of those ones. :)

The river was calmer here than it had been where Arnold and Phoebe fell in, and as they waited for Nayara to return, Arnold found himself thinking that the whole scene was quite peaceful. Moonlight on the water, the dark silhouette of the trees above them, more stars than he had ever seen… He imagined what it would be like float on a raft down the river, with the sounds of the rainforest drowning out his worries.

Arnold was pulled out of this train of thought when he saw Phoebe out of the corner of his eye, opening a bottle of water and taking a long drink. Arnold suddenly realized how thirsty he was.

 “Hey Phoebe… do you mind if I have some of that?”

“Didn’t you bring any?”

“Uh… no.”

“You’ve been planning this for weeks and you didn’t think to bring water?”

Arnold blushed, embarrassed. He had always been a better “doer” than a “planner.” Phoebe handed him the bottle.

“See phoebe. I told you having you around is helpful.” Arnold took one big gulp and handed the bottle back to his friend.

“You can have more than one drink, Arnold. I have multiple bottles. It’s important for us all to stay hydrated in this heat.”

Arnold didn’t hear her. He was staring past her, his eyes wide. Phoebe turned to see what he was looking at. By the light of the moon, she could see a large ship coming downstream. Phoebe hoped that it might be a commercial barge, but it looked rather old and worn down. It appeared to be made of wood and to be flying a partially shredded flag. Not at all what you would expect a commercial ship to look like…

Arnold was already getting to his feet, planning to run to where Nayara was, but Phoebe grabbed his shoulder. “Wait! We don’t know if they’ve seen us. We should hide!”

They ducked between the rocks. Arnold peaked over the edge of a boulder to get a look at what was happening (while pulling his hair down so the yellow tufts wouldn’t stick up and give them away). He saw the boat drifting closer, but no sign of Nayara from this vantage point.

They heard the splash of an anchor being thrown in the river, followed by a pop and then a shout from Nayara. Phoebe and Arnold abandoned their plan to stay hidden and began clambering in her direction. They saw the older girl clutching her shoulder in pain.

 _Did they shoot her?!_ Arnold thought, alarmed. She didn’t seem to be bleeding, but he picked up his pace anyway.

As they raced to Nayara’s rescue, several men jumped off the boat and waded to shore. One man grabbed Nayara by the arm in which she’d been wounded and she shouted in pain once again. She took a swing at him with her free hand and landed a blow on his jaw. Despite this small victory, she had no real chance in her condition against the three men who were now grabbing her limbs and dragging her through the shallows back to the ship.

“Hey!” Arnold yelled, “Stop!” He threw a rock, hitting one pirate squarely in the back, but to little effect. Catching up to them, Arnold kicked another man in the back of the knee. The man went down and lost his hold on Nayara’s left leg, which quickly connected with his face. It wasn’t enough. The pirate turned around and shoved Arnold back toward the rocky shore, where he landed painfully on his tailbone. Phoebe was running past him now, as fast as she could given her injury. She lunged at the nearest pirate, aiming to grab hold of the sword at his hip. If she could just get her hands on it… Phoebe felt a surge of pain as her weight came down on her injured ankle. She stumbled forward, just missing the hilt of the man’s sword.

The kidnappers ensnared Nayara in a net that had been thrown over the side of the ship. Pirates on deck pulled her up, as she tried to dig in her bag for a knife to cut her way out. A rope ladder was lowered for the pirates to climb aboard as well, and Arnold raced to it. He was foiled once again by one of the men, who kicked Arnold in the stomach and held him under water with his foot. For one terrifying moment, Arnold thought the man might drown him, but another reach by Phoebe for his sword sent the pirate scrambling for his getaway rope ladder. Arnold emerged from the water, gasping for air, and felt Phoebe pulling him back to the shore. _No!_ He wanted to scream. _We can’t give up!_

By the time Arnold had coughed up the water in his lungs, the ship was gone.


	22. Escape

Helga and Gerald gawked at Miles who was now standing outside his cell. "Hold on,” Helga said. “You can just bust out of here easy as opening the door?"

"Yeah I figured out how to pick the lock a long time ago.” Miles said, closing the door. “It was just for something to do. I never actually planned to escape."

"Why the hell not?" Helga asked.

Miles shrugged. "I thought I deserved to be here."

Gerald shook his head. “Mm. Mm. Mm. You’re a good man, Miles. A little foolish. But good.”

“Alright, boys.” Helga whispered, glancing back down the hall toward the exit. “How are we going to get this ‘criminal’ past the watchman out there?”

"I could try to smooth talk him again?" Gerald suggested.

"No way. Letting your sole prisoner escape is a much bigger deal than letting a few kids in to talk to him. I highly doubt you have a bribe valuable enough to get him to let us out."

"Yeah... you're right."

"We have to distract him. Maybe make up an emergency to get him to come outside while Miles escapes."

 "Pretending to be in trouble didn't work so well for us last time, Helga."

"Actually, Geraldo, I'm pretty sure it accomplished its exact stated purpose last time. And besides, my new plan involves much less yelling. Just follow my lead." She turned to Miles. “And make sure you’re ready to run out while the guard is occupied.”

Helga and Gerald returned down the long hallway and waved goodbye to the security guard – who showed off his shiny new watch as he waved back.

Outside, they walked around to the side of the building that bordered the river, where a small boat marked “Policía de San Lorenzo” was tied up at the dock.

“Helga… you’re not gonna do what I think you are. Are you?”

Helga didn’t answer him, but began untethering the boat (which was in fact exactly what Gerald was worried she would do). She gave it a push and the vessel started to drift away.

“Wow, Gerald. Did you see that monkey untie the police boat?” Helga asked, getting into character with her best ‘I’m innocent’ voice. “We better let the man inside know right away!”

Gerald added another tally to his mental list of laws he’d broken in the last few months, between FTI and this little adventure. _She’s as reckless as Arnold_ , he thought as he followed Helga back to the front of the prison.

Helga burst through the doors, looking terribly concerned. “Hey mister! I think your boat is floating away down the river!”

“WHAT!?” The guard shot out his chair, sprinted through the lobby, and was out the door in a flash. Helga peeked outside to confirm that he was fully occupied with chasing down his boat, then motioned to Miles who was standing in the shadows of the hallway. Helga, Gerald, and Miles quickly made their way out of the prison, turning the opposite direction from the guard and taking cover in the trees. When they were at a relatively safe distance from the prison, they stopped running.

“I can’t believe we made it,” Miles said, slightly out of breath (He hadn’t done much exercising in the past nine years).

Helga folded her arms across her chest. “You shouldn’t doubt my genius.”

Gerald laughed. “Yeah, you did good, Pataki.” He held out his hand for a fist bump, and to his surprise Helga reciprocated.

Helga quickly pulled her cell phone and beeper out of her backpack; she definitely wanted to be the one to tell Arnold he had a father again. She tried dialing Arnold’s number, just in case. As expected, the call failed, and she wasn’t too confident about her plan B either. Her message about the ship still hadn’t sent. Her pulse quickened at the thought of what terrible thing might have happened if the ship had already reached them, but she shook the thought away and hit send once again. As luck would have it, the message went through.

With that bit of ominous news out of the way, Helga typed three much more positive words. Her head filled with images of a grateful Arnold showering her with kisses, and she sent the message: FOUND YOUR DAD.


	23. Reunion

Arnold was too shaken up about Nayara’s disappearance to hear the beeping coming from his backpack.

He was pacing back and forth on top of a boulder. “What should we do?” he kept asking. Phoebe didn’t answer. She was wringing her hands and trying to think of a plan. Finally, she became aware of the increasing volume of the beeper in Arnold’s backpack.

“Arnold," she said, trying to get his attention.

“What should we do…”

“Excuse me, Arnold.”

“What should we do? What should we do?”

“Arnold!” The boy was awoken from his paralysis. He looked at Phoebe expectantly, praying that she had come up with a solution.

“Your beeper is going off. The others could be in trouble.”

Arnold wasn’t sure if he could handle more members of their party being in danger. With a sense of foreboding, he retrieved the beeper.

It was a message from Helga warning him about a ship coming down the river. _Wow, thanks. That’s real helpful now,_ Arnold thought as he slammed the delete button. He expected that to be all, but once again the beeper started buzzing. Arnold read the new message. And his heart stopped.

“Well, what does it say?” Phoebe asked, confused by the wide array of emotions that had displayed across Arnold’s face within a span of ten seconds.

Arnold couldn’t speak; he showed Phoebe the device which read: FOUND YOUR DAD

Yet another message came through momentarily: HE'S WITH US NOW

“Oh my goodness!” Phoebe gasped. She wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well… at least there’s some good news. Right?”

Arnold sat down on the rocks and closed his eyes. There were so many questions swirling around in his brain that he felt dizzy, and his conflicting emotions were making his chest ache. The news of his father was sullied by the fact that Nayara was gone and most likely in danger. For a minute, he simply focused on the breath filling and leaving his lungs – something Grandma had taught him to do. When he was done, he still felt confused, but also a bit more like himself, ready to jump into action. He looked back up at Phoebe. “Tell them to meet us by the river, where the cliff descends. We’ll form a plan when we’re all back together.”

MEET BY RIVER WHERE CLIFF DESCENDS. Phoebe pushed the send button, then extended a hand to help Arnold up. “Everything will be okay, Arnold,” she said, trying to convince herself as well as her friend.

“I hope so.”

* * *

 

With a triumphant air, Helga, Gerald, and Miles walked back east along the Rio Claro, oblivious to the danger that had befallen Nayara.

All of this walking was making Miles keenly aware of how out of shape he was. Luckily, he had longer legs than the children who were supposedly leading him to his forgotten son, so he didn’t have to exert himself _too_ much to keep up with them. “So… how old are you kids anyway?” He asked.

“Helga here just turned 10. I’ve been 10 since August.” Gerald said proudly.

“Is Arnold 10 too?” They nodded. Miles wondered why ten-year-old children were traipsing through the jungle alone. Was that normal? That didn’t seem normal, but there also didn’t seem to be much he could do about it. “While we’re walking, could you all tell me about my family?”

“I don’t really know much about Stella, other than the fact that she’s a doctor and a botanist, and the two of you met here in San Lorenzo. Arnold’s my best friend though. He’s pretty cool. Always getting us into trouble though. Doing stuff like this.”

“He’s ‘pretty cool?’ Is that all you have to say about him, Mr. Best Friend?”

“Well, Helga, why don't you tell us what _you_ think of Arnold?” Gerald said, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.

Helga growled and raised her fist.

Miles calmly placed his hand over Helga’s fist before she could sock Gerald. “What else can you tell me about Arnold?” he asked.

Gerald thought for a second. “He likes sports. Especially baseball. Mickey Kaline is his favorite baseball player.”

“His hair is the color of cornflowers.” Helga added, gazing off into the distance.

He plays the harmonica. Mostly jazz music.

“He chews a lot of bubblegum.”

“We once saved our entire neighborhood from being torn down and turned into a mall, because Arnold was too stubborn and optimistic to give up hope.”

“He smells like citrus.”

“Ugh, Helga! You’re making me sick! Miles doesn’t want to know what his son _smells like_.”

Helga blushed a deep red. Miles laughed. “Sure, I do.” He said, patting Helga on the head. “Thanks for letting me know.”

* * *

 

Arnold and Phoebe had reached the spot where the paths at the top and bottom of the cliff finally met. They concealed themselves in the trees and listened for the rest of their party. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, they heard the rustling of branches and footsteps not far off. _This is it,_ Arnold thought nervously. He tried not to think about Nayara for the time being; he wanted to allow himself to be happy for a moment as he met his father.

Gerald appeared first through the trees, followed by a man Arnold had only ever seen in pictures (or rather, an older and more sickly-looking version of a man Arnold had seen in pictures). Helga stepped through the trees after Miles, with a huge smile across her face.

Arnold could only stare. Everyone was looking at him, watching his reaction, but he was simply frozen.

Miles raised his hand to greet his son with a small, awkward wave. “Hey, Arnold.”

That broke the spell. Arnold stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father. Miles returned the hug, and they stayed like that for a long time as Arnold soaked up the fact that his dad was alive and here with him.

Finally, Arnold stepped back and wiped his eyes. “Where were you all this time? Why didn’t you come home?”

“I’m so sorry,” Miles said, his voice full of grief. “I…”

Arnold didn’t wait for his response, since the next question that occurred to him seemed much more important. “Do you know what happened to Mom?” he asked, hopefully.

Miles shook his head, and Arnold’s heart sank. “He’s got amnesia,” Gerald said, and proceeded to explain everything they had discovered back at the prison.

 _So, he doesn’t remember me at all_ , Arnold thought. The news stung less than one might expect. Arnold had done his best to prepare himself for the possibility that his parents might be dead, and a father with no memory of him was better than no father at all. More than the thought that Miles had forgotten him, it hurt Arnold to think about his dad spending the last nine years in a lonely prison cell, believing that he was cold-hearted criminal.

Miles waited patiently to hear his son’s reaction. Arnold smiled up at him. “I’m so glad that you’re okay now.”

“Alright! One parent found, one to go,” Helga declared. “This is a piece of cake.”

Arnold sighed, wishing that it were really so easy. “I have bad news,” he said. “Nayara was kidnapped.”

“Huh?” Gerald asked, looking around like he’d only just noticed she wasn’t with them. Helga also felt guilty for not noticing, but only a little.

“She was taken by river pirates.” Phoebe said. To Miles, she explained, “Nayara is an indigenous girl who was assisting us in navigating the jungle. I’m sure she could have gotten away from the pirates if she had just run upstream, but I don’t think she wanted to leave Arnold and me behind…” Phoebe’s voice trailed off.

“I came down here to find my parents,” Arnold said quietly. “But I keep putting my friends lives in danger, and now someone else has gone missing.” He looked around at his friends, who were all putting their lives at risk for his sake, and he suddenly felt terribly selfish.

“Hey man,” Gerald said, placing a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about us. We knew what we were signing up for.” Helga and Phoebe nodded their agreement. “And we’re not about to give up,” Gerald continued. “You taught me that sometimes when things seem hopeless, you just have to look on the bright side and keep trying, so that’s what we’re going to do. You in?”

Arnold couldn’t very well say no to that. “Definitely,” he replied. Arnold and Gerald sealed the deal with their special handshake. Although Arnold was still worried about Nayara, he felt lighter, and the difficulties ahead seemed less daunting.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Helga exclaimed. She reached into the pocket of her cargo pants and pulled out Arnold’s tiny blue hat. “Here,” she said, holding the hat out to him.

“Thanks, Helga.” Arnold took it from her with a smile and returned the hat to its proper place on top of his head. Next, he retrieved his father’s journal from his backpack and turned to the map where Nayara had left instructions in case they were separated. It was time to see where they could find the Green-Eyed People.


	24. Fantasma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update this time, but I hope you like it! The speaking parts in this chapter should obviously be in Spanish, but I do not have the Spanish ability to make that happen nor, quite frankly, the writing ability to write it in Spanish and make the meaning clear in English in a way that flows well. So... sorry about that.

Nayara's knees thumped against the rough, wooden deck of the ship. The river pirates had quickly bound her hands behind her back and tied her ankles together to keep her from kicking. She tried to take stock of her surroundings. There were at least a dozen pirates on deck - and possibly more below - armed with a mismatched assortment of swords and knives. Nayara spotted one pellet gun, possibly the one that had inflicted the wound to her shoulder. Most of the pirates wore dirty, oversized frocks and threadbare shorts that ended just past their knees. One man stood out from the rest in a knee-length jacket with red embellishments. Nayara glared at him as he strode toward her.

“Woah, boys. Don’t treat our guest so rudely,” the man said in Spanish. “I want her to feel welcomed. Come now, let’s get her a chair.” The man waited patiently as his underlings fetched a chair. One of them pulled Nayara up by the arm, forcing her to sit in it.

“That’s better,” the man in the jacket said. “Now, I’m sure you’ll be wanting to know who your hosts are. My name is Fantasma and these…” He gestured toward the men around him. “are my valued crewmembers. They’re a little rough around the edges but I’m sure you’ll find them to be great company once you get to know them. What’s your name dear?”

Nayara’s only response was to glare at him.

“You’re one of the Green-Eyes, aren’t you, darling?” he asked, eyeing the gold and emerald charms that hung from her ears.

Her glare intensified at being called “darling.” Fantasma seemed unfazed by her silence. “Who were those children with you, anyway?” He asked, then turned to one of his men without pausing for a response. “Do you think we should bring them up here too? Just to be safe?”

Nayara’s eyes widened. “I was just giving them directions,” she blurted. “They weren’t really with me!”

“I see. In that case, we’ll just let them be.” Fantasma smiled coyly and Nayara knew she’d been tricked into revealing that she could speak Spanish. "I tried to hunt down one of you bilingual Green Eyes awhile back,” Fantasma continued, confirming Nayara’s fear, “but I was afraid it was just a myth so I settled on picking up any Green Eye I could find. Looks like I really lucked out, huh? I suppose it’s true that if you want to find something you should stop looking."

"What do you want from me?" Nayara demanded.

"You're going to help me find something. Something I've been looking for a long time."

Nayara scoffed. "As if I would ever help you."

Fantasma’s eyes narrowed and he briefly dropped his well-mannered airs. "We'll see," he said gruffly, before motioning to his crew to take her away.


	25. A New Strategy

“Find the exact center.”

That’s what Nayara had written on the piece of paper tucked inside Miles’ journal. Arnold felt a wave of frustration wash over him. _What’s that supposed to mean?_

“The exact center of what?” Phoebe asked, reading over Arnold’s shoulder.

“What are you two yammering about?” Helga asked.

Arnold explained how he had convinced Nayara to write down where they might locate some Green-Eyed people if they found themselves in a situation like this one. “She didn’t give us much to go on though,” he said, showing the note to the others.

“She may not have truly wanted us to find the Green-Eyed People, I’m afraid.” Phoebe said.

Helga picked the journal up off Arnold’s backpack while he continued to stare at the note. “What are these little x’s?” she wondered aloud.

Arnold looked at where she was pointing in the southwest corner of the map. “They’re different temples and places of significance to the Green-Eyed people. I assume they mark the border of their territory.”

Helga smirked at him, waiting for him to figure it out.

“Oh!” Arnold exclaimed as the realization came to him. “We’re supposed to find the exact center of their territory.”

“Obviously.”

“Well we can’t all be as smart as you, Helga,” Arnold said, defensively.

Gerald yawned. “Especially when were this sleep deprived. I don’t guess we get to sleep anytime soon?”

“We could sleep if we went back…” Phoebe pointed out. She didn’t mention who they would be going back to, in case Miles caught on that they weren’t exactly supposed to be out here.

Arnold struggled with what to do. Though it was still dark within the cover of the trees, he and Phoebe had noticed the first rays of sunlight while they were leaving the river bank half an hour ago. That meant that it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the class was ready to start their day, and Simmons would be wondering where they were. On the one hand, if would be helpful to keep Simmons off their back as long as possible. However, the police would probably be searching the jungle anyway for their missing prisoner…

Arnold shook his head. “We need to let someone know about Nayara. It can’t wait a whole day. She could be in real trouble.”

Gerald rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “Alright, alright. We’ll keep going. So how do we find the center of their territory?”

“Hmmm…” Arnold studied the map and identified about where they were now. “I think we need to go that way,” he said, pointing.

“You can’t just wing it, Arnold. Let me see that.” Arnold handed the journal to Phoebe and she studied the x’s that marked the Green-Eyed People’s territory. She mumbled to herself as she examined it, saying things like: “don’t even know the whole shape…” and “doubt this is drawn to scale...” and “have to assume it’s symmetrical…”

Finally, she looked up and announced, “I believe I can calculate the proper location with a compass and some sort of surveyor’s wheel.”

“I have a compass!” Arnold pulled a golden object out of the front pocket of his backpack and popped it open. “North is that way,” he said, pointing in approximately the same direction he’d been pointing a moment ago. “Hmm… that doesn’t seem right.” He looked back and forth between his compass and map. The river ran west, but his compass was pointing across it to what should have been southwest.

“Perhaps it’s broken,” Phoebe said.

Arnold was a little offended at this suggestion. Grandpa had lent him this compass, and he wouldn’t have given him a faulty one. Arnold frowned as he realized that he must have hit it on a rock or something during his fall in the river or his battle with the pirates.

“I could most likely find another somewhere in town,” Phoebe said.

“I thought we decided we weren’t going back,” Gerald wondered.

“I’ll have to pick up supplies to make a surveyor’s wheel anyway. We need to have an accurate measurement to find the center of the Green-Eyed People’s territory, or we’ll end up getting lost.”

Arnold groaned. It looked like he wasn’t going to be able to warn anyone about Nayara being kidnapped anytime soon.

“What about Mr. Convict over here?” Helga asked, pointing at Miles. “We can’t just take him back into the city with us. The cops will nab him.”

“You three go back,” Arnold said. “Dad and I will stay in the jungle and search for one of these temples. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a Green-Eyed person there.”

Phoebe nodded and pointed to one of the X’s on the map. “This one has a pathway leading to it. Go there and we’ll meet you both tonight after we sneak away again.”

“I’ll stay here too. I’m not the least bit tired,” Helga said, doing everything in her power to stifle a yawn. She glanced at Arnold, looking for signs that he disliked the idea, but his face didn’t give away an opinion.

“It’s decided then. Phoebe and Gerald go back for supplies. Helga, Dad, and I stay.” Arnold looked up at his father, who seemed rather worried. “Is… that okay with you?”

Miles frowned. “I can’t say I love the idea of a couple kids running around by themselves in the jungle… You all do seem to know what you’re doing though.” He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. It reminded Arnold of his grandpa. “This might be completely irrational,” Miles continued. “But... something is telling me to trust you. So let’s do it.”


	26. Interlude

Phoebe and Gerald traveled back toward the city as quickly as they could. By now sunlight was streaming through cracks in the tree cover. There was no way they would make it to the hotel before the class was scheduled to leave for their morning activities. They would have to be on high alert in case Mr. Simmons and Principle Wartz already had the San Lorenzo police searching for them. With any luck, the excuse Phoebe had given Rhonda would buy them a little time.

When Phoebe had finished running through their plan and everything they needed to accomplish for the third time, Gerald shook his head, impressed. “I don’t know why we didn’t let you in on this whole thing earlier,” he said. “You’re awesome at figuring things out and keeping all the details straight. Arnold wanted to keep it between us, but I should have made him see reason.”

“You really should have.” Phoebe agreed, giggling.

“Especially since Arnold went and told Helga about everything on the plane anyway!”

“Ah, yes. Helga can have that effect on people.”

Phoebe took a step that sent a surge of pain through her ankle. Gerald noticed that she winced and stopped walking. “Oh, man. After everything that’s happened, I forgot you were injured!” he said, looking concerned. “You wanna ride on my back?”

“I… I’m perfectly capable of walking,” she answered, folding her arms across her chest defensively.

Gerald seemed confused by this reaction. “Yeah, I know your capable, but I also know that your ankle is hurt and I don’t want you to be in pain.”

The way he was smiling at her made her blush. “Okay,” she squeaked.

Gerald stooped down and Phoebe’s cheeks grew redder as she climbed onto his back. He lifted her up and they continued their journey.

* * *

 

Back at the hotel, Rhonda explained to Mr. Simmons why Phoebe, Helga, Gerald, and Arnold were not gathered in the lobby with the rest of the class, ready to begin their day.

“She said they all had…” Rhonda lowered her voice to a whisper, “explosive diarrhea.”

Mr. Simmons frowned. “Explosive diarrhea?”

“Ahhhh haahaa!” Harald was doubled over with laughter. “Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe, and Helga are EXPLODING with doodoo!”

“Uggh! Please be more discreet Harold!” Rhonda cried. Her face exhibited the deep disgust she felt at even having to talk about this. Discussing bowl movements was rather improper. Still, she turned back to her teacher and continued. "Phoebe couldn't even talk to me for more than a minute before she had to run away to use the ladies room!"

Harold laughed so hard he fell on the floor.                                     

"Oh dear," Simmons said, ignoring Harold. "I guess I better go check on them."

“Trust me, Mr. Simmons. You do _not_ want to do that. They're in a compromising state right now. Please, save them the embarrassment of having their teacher witness their… difficulties.”

"Well... I suppose I can leave them alone until lunch. If they're not feeling better by then, they might need a doctor..."

Mr. Simmons seemed unsatisfied with this plan, but Rhonda patted him on the arm reassuringly. "I think waiting would be best."


	27. On the Ship

Nayara had spent the morning in a small room below deck, being interrogated by two pirates. Though it hadn’t been a pleasant experience, they hadn’t exactly tortured her. But they had given her hints of what might happen if she continued to refuse to answer their questions. Her wounded shoulder ached from how often they had “innocently” squeezed it. At one point, it seemed that one of the men was about to strike her, having grown frustrated by her silence, but she had been saved by a knock at the door. The calmer pirate opened it to reveal Fantasma.

“Well?” he asked, looking between the two underlings.

“This way isn’t gonna work, boss,” replied one pirate, gritting his teeth. “She hasn’t said a word.”

Fantasma’s face was unreadable. “No matter,” he said. “We’ll let our guest rest up a bit and try again later. Come with me, dear.”

Nayara didn’t move until one of the pirates grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her up. “Better do what he says, little girl.” Nayara weighed the potential pros and cons of being difficult out of spite. But truthfully, she was very tired. Maybe they really were going to let her sleep. One pirate untied the rope around her ankles so she could walk, and she followed Fantasma out into the narrow hallway. At one end of the hallway was a trapdoor that lowered a rickety set of stairs into the ship’s hold.

"After you,” Fantasma said.

The hold was dark and damp and crammed with crates of supplies. Nayara could barely see until Fantasma came down after her with a lamp. Someone stirred at the other end of the large room. "What are you waking me up for?" It sounded like a woman's voice.

"I've brought someone for you to attend to." Fantasma said, cheerily. He led Nayara toward the speaker.

"Don't tell me. Manolo cut himself playing around with swords again?"

"No, no, my dear. We have a new person with us today." Fantasma held up the light as they came closer, and Nayara and the woman were able to get a look at each other. The woman looked to be in her early forties or so, with long brunette hair and a wide face. She gasped upon seeing Nayara and the giant welt on her shoulder.

"What did you do to her?" The woman demanded.

“It was an unfortunate mishap,” Fantasma said. “We’d only meant to get her attention, but you know how some of my crewmembers do have rather poor aim.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Fantasma gritted his teeth, and he stepped closer to the woman, trying to intimidate her. “I don’t care anymore,” he said. The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. Turning away from her, Fantasma pulled a set of shackles from a nearby crate. Nayara considered making a break for it, but figured she wouldn’t get far with a ship full of pirates and her hands still secured behind her back. She begrudgingly allowed Fantasma to place the shackles around her wrists, the chains of which he connected to a metal ring on the wall of the ship before finally cutting the rope that tied her hands together.

“Alright, ladies, I’ll let you two get to know each other,” Fantasma said jovially as he waved goodbye and returned to the upper decks.

The woman flipped on a lamp above her cot and pulled out a first aid kit (which was stocked with a rather pathetic-looking set of supplies). “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” she said, softly. “I just want to fix up that shoulder.” She gestured toward Nayara’s wound.

“So you’re the doctor, huh?”

The woman blinked, surprised to hear English words. No one had spoken to her in English in a long time. "Yes, that’s right.”

Nayara eyed the chains around the woman's wrists. Like Nayara’s own, they allowed her to move well enough, but not to go very far. "Funny set up for the doctor."

"I've tried to escape a lot over the last nine years,” she replied, as she began tending to Nayara’s injury.

"Why don't you just... not help them? Personally, I would endure any amount of torture if the alternative was playing doctor for a bunch of villainous pirates."

“They aren’t _all_ so terrible…” The woman sighed and closed her eyes. "I don’t know. Maybe I am doing the wrong thing. It's complicated."

"Talk to me about it."

Having finished cleaning and bandaging Nayara’s shoulder, the woman took a seat on her cot and motioned for Nayara to join her. She stared off far into the distance as she began her story. "When they first captured me, Fantasma was sick and they wanted me to help him. I said no. They tried and tried to get me to cooperate, but I refused. After my husband died, I even stopped accepting the food they gave me."

"Was your husband captured too?"

"No, he tried to save me."

"And he died trying to save you?"

The woman nodded. "He went down a waterfall during all the chaos of his rescue attempt. At first I was hopeful that one of the Green-Eyed People might have saved him from the fall. They've done that for the both of us before. But I know he didn’t survive. If he had, he would have tried to rescue me again." She wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye before continuing. "So anyway, it didn't seem like my husband was coming back, and they weren't going to let me go either. After nearly starving myself, I finally agreed to make an antidote for the sickness that was afflicting the pirates and to continue treating them in future, on the condition that they stopped killing and injuring people. I try to justify my actions with the thought that I might be keeping the worst of Fantasma’s criminal inclinations at bay… but I’m probably just kidding myself. I do have another, more selfish reason though. If I’d continued to refuse to help them, I’m sure they would have killed me."

“Isn’t that better than a life in a stinky cargo hold?”

“Maybe… but I wanted to survive so that I could possibly return to my son one day.”

Nayara's heart sank. She felt so bad for this woman who had lost her whole family. “You have a son? What happened to him?”

“Miles and I left him with his grandparents in the United States nine years ago. His name is Arnold.”

“Wait! Arnold?! Are you Stella?!” Nayara was suddenly bursting with excitement.

“Y..yes. My name is Stella,” the woman answered, surprised. “How did you know that?”

Nayara lowered her voice, conscious of the possibility of spies listening through the floorboards above them. “I met your son! He’s here in San Lorenzo looking for you!”

“What? Really?! But… he should only be ten-years-old.”

“I know, right? Gutsy little kid. Persistent too. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection before. He’s got the same wide head as you.”

Tears were welling up in Stella’s eyes. “What do you think he’s doing now?”

Nayara thought for a moment. “Probably looking for my people. The “Green Eyed People” as you call us.”

Stella leaned back against the wall of the ship and began chewing on her thumb nail, deep in thought. "Any chance your people are going to come after you to get you out of this mess?" she asked.

Nayara crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not a damsel in distress. I can take care of myself."

“I’m sure that you can.” Stella said, nodding. She closed her eyes, thinking back to her old life. “But sometimes it's nice to know when you're in trouble that someone will help you. Miles and I were always a team. Sometimes he would save me. Sometimes I would save him. We were equals."

Nayara grabbed the older woman's hand. “Well, maybe your husband isn’t around anymore to help you, but I’m here now. We can help each other.”

Stella opened her eyes and smiled at the girl. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“You up for one more escape attempt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I had so much trouble with this chapter. I hope you liked it! I'm going to try to have another chapter up tomorrow. *fingers crossed*


	28. Dangerous Territory

As Phoebe and Gerald walked east back toward the city, Arnold’s little group was heading south along a tributary – the one that linked the Rio Claro to the Rio de Oscuridad. Helga hung back for most of their journey, happy to allow Arnold and Miles time to get to know one another. They talked about Arnold’s grandparents, his friends, his school, how he saved the neighborhood (he even mentioned how much help Helga had been), what foods he liked, what sports he played… everything Arnold could think to say or Miles could think to ask about. Miles felt bad that he had so little to share, as his only memories were of his prison cell, the rotation of five guards who watched over him, and the once weekly afternoons when he had been allowed to go outside for an hour. Arnold tried to get a clear grasp on his father’s condition. Why was he able to speak English fluently if he’d only been speaking Spanish the past nine years? Miles said he didn’t know why. Did he understand things like car, house, ocean? Yes, Miles had said. He could picture in his head all of these and many other things he’d had no opportunity to see since he woke up with amnesia. He could picture them, but he couldn’t  _remember_  them, and he wasn’t sure how to explain the difference.

“Man, that is weird.” Helga said, finally joining in on the conversation. “You’re a perfectly functional adult but you’ve got zero backstory.” She rubbed her chin, pondering what that would be like. “Truth be told, I’m not sure if I would mind being made to forget my entire life up to this point,” she said casually.Arnold was left speechless by such her statement. Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He knew that Helga didn’t have a dream home life. But would she really want to forget all her friends?  _Would she want to forget_ _me_ _?_  a voice asked from the back of his mind.

“It’s not exactly a walk in the park,” Miles warned. “I may seem ‘functional’ now, but I was a mess for a long time after those cops found me.”

They were distracted from the somber topic as they neared the Rio de Oscuridad. The pathway that Miles had marked in his journal all those years ago had thankfully not been overgrown with trees and plants. As they set off down the path, it began to rain.

* * *

 

After a morning of hiking with the children (and trying to keep a bunch of ten year old from wandering off the trail), Robert Simmons was thoroughly exhausted. He would have liked nothing more than to retire to his hotel room to take a nap, but he had four sick children to check up on. Thus, after instructing the other students to wash up from their hike and meet back in the lobby in half an hour, he went to Arnold and Gerald’s room and knocked on the door.

No answer.

“Ahem, excuse me. Arnold? Gerald? Are you boys okay?”

Silence.

Mr. Simmons was feeling a bit worried now, imagining two of his students unconscious in their room and dying of dehydration. “Is it okay if I come in?” he asked, with no response. Mr. Simmons pulled the set of extra keys the staff had given him to access the students’ rooms if need be. He was looking for the right one when the door opened. Gerald stood in the doorway, his eyes red and accentuated by heavy bags, hunched over as if he didn’t have the energy to stand up straight. The kid looked like he had slept for a total of fifteen minutes.

“Oh. Hey, Teach.”

“Gerald, are you alright? Rhonda informed me that you all have been sick. Are you feeling well enough to come to lunch with the class?”

Gerald perked up at the mention of food. “Yeah, I’m feeling better actually. Arnold is sleeping though. I think it would be best not to bother him, you know? That diarrhea really took it out of him. No pun intended.”

“Perhaps I should take him to see a doctor…”

“No, no, no. He’s fine, really. Just a stomach bug. Tell you what, Mr. S, if he’s not feeling better by tomorrow, he’ll definitely go see a doctor. But right now, I’m feeling well enough to eat something, so Arnold will probably be better in no time!”

Mr. Simmons felt better at Gerald’s reassurance, and even more so when he found a cheery Phoebe in her room, looking tired but relatively healthy. Unfortunately, Helga was also too sick to join them, but Phoebe informed him that her friend was on the road to recovery and maintained a typical 98 degree body temperature, so there was no cause for concern.

* * *

 

Arnold, Helga, and Miles were getting drenched by the warm raindrops falling from the leaves overhead. Helga’s pigtails and bow drooped and her clothes stuck to her uncomfortably. “Ugh… I wish there was somewhere we could take shelter from this rain for five measly minutes,” she complained.

“It is a  _rain_ forest, Helga,” said Arnold, who was actually enjoying the showers. He was comforted by the sound of the rain pattering on the forest floor all around them.

“I’m aware of that fact, Arnold. I’m still allowed to gripe about it though. We can’t all be as jolly as y…AH!”

“What’s wrong?!” Arnold asked, startled.

“Quicksand.”

Terrified, Arnold grabbed Helga by the arm to keep her from sinking.

“Relax Arnoldo. It’s not going to pull me under. This isn’t the movies.”

Arnold looked down to see one of Helga’s feet stuck in a large sandy patch of ground, up to her ankle. As she had said, it wasn’t pulling her down. “If it’s no big deal, why’d you gasp like that?” Arnold asked, feeling defensive.

“Because I was surprised when my foot disappeared below the ground, doi. Now just calm down and hold my backpack while I work my way out of here.” Helga sat down and patiently moved her foot back and forth in the sand, just as Phoebe had explained to her (when they had just so happened to be watching a film in which the hero got sucked into a pool of quicksand up to his neck. “This film isn’t scientifically sound. Quicksand doesn’t work like that,” Phoebe had said before beginning a lengthy speech on the mechanics of quicksand, which Helga was now incredibly grateful for.) Twice she had to whack Arnold’s arm away when he tried to help her. “If you try to pull me out of here, my foot’s not coming with me.”

Within ten minutes she had freed herself. Arnold (not being a big fan of standing by and doing nothing while someone was in trouble) heaved a sigh of relief. “I guess we should walk carefully from here on out,” he mused. “I wonder if the quicksand is the reason Nayara mentioned we should avoid this area…”

“She warned us against coming here? Criminey! You didn’t think to mention that?”

“Well excuse me, Helga. I’ve been kind of focused on finding help.”

Miles laughed. “You two bicker a lot. Are you dating or something?”

Arnold blushed and Helga laughed nervously. “Ha... heh, wh.. what would give you a crazy idea like that?”

Miles sensed that this was a taboo topic. “Oh, I was just teasing you,” he said, dropping the issue.

It wasn’t long after Helga’s foot had been freed from the clutches of the quicksand that they encountered a new problem: the bugs. Sure, they’d been swatting at mosquitoes since they left the city, but it was nothing like what they experienced now. They were surrounded by swarms of the things. They were so busy trying to brush away the mosquitoes that were about to bite them that they didn’t even have time to scratch the bites they already had. (It was a good thing the children had gotten all those vaccines before travelling.) It wasn’t just mosquitoes, either. Giant beetles flew in their faces. Skinny stick things crawled onto their hands as they pushed branches out of their path. And an accidental stroll through a spider web scared Miles half to death.

After another hour of walking, a large rodent ran straight across Helga’s feet. “RAT!!” she screamed, as she jumped into Arnold’s arms.

“Looked more like a squirrel to…” Arnold was interrupted when Miles placed his hands over both the boy’s shoulders and yanked him backward, out of the way of an enormous snake that was slithering across the path in the wake of the rodent. They each remained perfectly still – with Helga still in Arnold’s arms – until the snake was out of sight. “Was that a boa constrictor?” Arnold asked, his face pale as a ghost’s.

“Whatever it was,” Helga said, trying to act cool as Arnold set her back on her feet, “I hope I never see one again.”

Finally, the top of a volcano came into view, and Arnold realized exactly where they were headed – the temple where he had been born. They quickly found the temple and took shelter from the rain, which even Arnold was sick of by that point. Miles insisted that he would keep watch while the children got some rest. Arnold and Helga had no arguments, and they both fell asleep the moment they laid down on the temple floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rodent that ran across Helga's feet was an agouti! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agouti  
> So cute!  
> (I know the pacing is kind of off in this chapter. I'm sorry.)


	29. Finding the Center

It was after midnight when Phoebe and Gerald arrived at the temple below the volcano. They had been able to get a little sleep and gather the supplies they needed in town after their lunch with the class, and they had made their escape later that evening after checking in once again with Mr. Simmons. Their trip to the temple had been less tenuous than it had been for the other three, since Arnold had managed to get a signal long enough to send them a warning on the pager.

“I hope everyone is well rested,” Phoebe said, with way more energy than she should have had on the few hours of sleep she’d gotten over the past few days. “We’ve got work to do.”

Unfortunately, no Green-Eyed People had showed up at the temple since Miles, Arnold, and Helga arrived, so their best bet was still to find the center of the Green-Eye territory as Nayara had so mysteriously instructed. The first thing that Phoebe did was pull out the new compass she had bought in town. “Let’s see, based on the direction of the river, north should be that way, approximately…” Phoebe stared at the compass, confused. It was not pointing the way she had indicated it should be. She shook it, and when the arrow had settled, it was pointing in an entirely different direction. Phoebe asked Arnold to take a look at his compass as well, only to find that it behaved the same way.

"Oh dear, I suppose your compass wasn't broken after all, Arnold."

“What does this mean?” Arnold asked.

“I have an idea... Come with me.” Phoebe led the group down the steps of the temple and back along the path they had travelled on a few hundred feet, then she and Arnold checked their compasses again. They both pointed directly at the temple. After circling the temple, they discovered that the compasses pointed there no matter what direction they were facing. “As I suspected," Phoebe said. "It seems that there’s some sort of powerful magnet inside the temple that’s throwing off the compasses.”

Arnold furrowed his brow, worried about how this would affect their ability to navigate. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Actually, no,” Phoebe answered. “I’ll just have to think a little harder.”Arnold sighed with relief. 

“Oh no,” Helga said, with pretend dismay. “You’ll have to think harder? That’s like recess for you.” She nudged her friend playfully, and Phoebe smiled back at her.

The group travelled between the temple and the next monument marked on the map, using the surveyor’s wheel Phoebe had constructed to measure the distance by counting the turns of the wheel as they pushed it. The journey was slow going, as they had to constantly ensure that they were travelling in a straight line. To everyone’s surprise, the compass shifted directions once again halfway between the two landmarks, and they discovered that both monuments had magnetic fields strong enough to disrupt their compasses. After walking back to the temple to double check their measurements, and then all the way to another monument southwest of the temple (which was also magnetic) and back again, Phoebe finally stated that she had enough data to determine which way and how far they needed to go to reach the center. She sat down at the steps of the temple and got to work.

“So the Green Eyed territory is shaped like a football?” Helga asked, leaning over Phoebe’s shoulder to look at the diagram she had drawn. She elbowed Arnold in the side. “Hey football head, you think they did that to honor you – the miracle baby born during a volcanic eruption?”

“I’d say it more likely represents the shape of an eyeball, Helga,” Phoebe said. “That is the symbol they inscribe on their monuments after all.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

Phoebe stood and closed her notebook. “Regrettably, it is a fair distance to the center. It’s going to take us a while to get there.”

“I guess we better get moving then,” Arnold said. “Lead the way, Phoebe.”

They walked and walked… and walked... and walked. Slowly. Always double checking that they were going in the right direction. With the constant ticking of the surveyor’s wheel informing them that they had traveled another meter. The journey took upwards of four hours, and was made bearable only by Phoebe’s countdown. “10 kilometers… 2 kilometers… 500 meters… 50 meters…”

One moment they were surrounded by leafy branches and the next they had stepped into a small clearing, in the middle of which stood an unadorned rock column.

"This must be it!" Arnold said, excitedly.

"Alright," Gerald said, pumping his fist. "So... what now?"

Arnold's excitement drained. "Oh. Uh... Nayara said we had a chance of meeting someone here so... I guess we wait." The rest of the group groaned collectively.

Phoebe walked over to the rock column. "I suppose we might as well run a check to ensure this really is the center," she said, pulling her compass out of her pocket. "If we're really in the exact center, the compass should switch between pointing north and south, which should be marked by the two monuments at the top and bottom of the eyeball.”

Phoebe placed her compass on the column. It did not point north or south, but northwest. Tears sprang to Phoebe’s eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense!” she said, shaking the compass, only to get the same result.

“What’s wrong?” Arnold asked, bewildered.

“This… this might not be the right sp..spot,” Phoebe replied, full-on weeping now.

“What!!?” Helga cried, pulling at her pigtails. “What did you do, Pheebs? Mess up the math?!”

“M…maybe the shape wasn’t symmetrical like I thought!”

“No way!” Gerald said, putting his arm around Phoebe. “This has to be it! It’s exactly where you thought it would be! There’s… there’s just something wacky going on with the compass! Right? Right?!”

Arnold joined in the hysteria, pacing around the clearing. “But what if it’s not the right place! What if this spot is only here to throw us off. What if…”

Clearly the small amount of sleep everyone had gotten had not been enough. Miles watched the four exhausted children freaking out in front of him and decided it was time to step in. “Good job everyone!” he said, loud enough to be heard over the racket. All of the children turned to look at him. “Good job, everybody. Especially Phoebe,” he said, giving her a thumbs-up. “Gerald’s right. This is definitely the place. We’ve been confronted with a new mystery that we don’t quite understand yet, but that shouldn’t distract us from the fact that we’ve reached our destination.” The children nodded at him, feeling reassured. “I think you all deserve a rest,” he announced.

“But… this is no time for sleeping,” Arnold said, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

Miles shook his head at Arnold’s objection. “That’s an order from your dad, young man.” Arnold wasn’t sure at first how to respond to that. He decided that he was happy to be bossed around by his father, so he flashed him a smile and set his backpack on the ground to serve as a pillow. His friends followed suit.

“Don’t worry,” Miles said. “I’ll keep watch for the Green-Eyed People.”


	30. The Green-Eyed People

Helga shot straight up from where she was laying, awoken by an urgent idea. She began to shake Phoebe who was sleeping beside her. “Pheebs!” she whispered, “Wake up!”

“Go back to bed, Helga. You’ve only slept for an hour,” Miles said, yawning. He was still awake and on watch, but clearly needed a little shut eye himself. Helga ignored him and continued to shake Phoebe until she sat up with a groan.

“What, Helga?” Phoebe snipped.

Helga grabbed Phoebe’s backpack and pulled out the notebook she’d been using earlier to diagram the Green-Eyed People’s territory. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I have an idea about what’s happening with the compass!”

Arnold and Gerald were stirring now. “What’s going on?” Arnold asked, clutching his head. He still felt dizzy from a dream in which he’d been spinning around and around, perched atop a compass needle.

“Okay, listen up. What if… the compass points to the Green-Eyed People?”

“Now there’s a convenient idea,” Gerald mocked, rolling onto his side and placing his backpack over his ear so he could go back to sleep.

Helga hit him with the notebook. “I’m serious, hair boy! What do you all think this whole set up is for anyway?”

“What setup do you mean?” Arnold asked, intrigued.

“This whole thing with the magnets and a random pillar in the exact center?” Helga said, holding up the diagram that Phoebe had drawn. “There must be some reason for it, right?”

“I assumed that they intended to throw off the navigational systems of any outsiders in the area.” Phoebe responded.

“Sure, that’s probably part of it. But you saw that Nayara had a compass on her wrist, right?” Helga’s friends stared at her blankly. They had not noticed. “Criminy! Well she did. If compasses were useless in this area, why would she have one?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Actually, Helga, the compass isn’t useless as long as you know the location of the nearest magnet.”

“Exactly! The compass always points to the closest magnet. When we got here, the compass didn’t point to either of the two places we expected it to.” She indicated the northern and southern monuments on Phoebe’s diagram. “So there must be another magnet we don’t know about. What if it’s a magnet they carry with them as they move around, so when someone like Nayara is away from the group, they can find each other again?” Helga sketched a circle in the middle of the lens shape on the diagram, like a pupil in an eyeball. “As long as the Green-Eyed People stay somewhere in this area, their magnet would always be the closest one to this location, right?”

Phoebe examined the drawing Helga had made. “That… actually makes a lot of sense,” she said, impressed with her friend’s powers of deduction.

Helga leaned back against the stone column, proud of her revelation. “Yeah, I’m basically Nancy Drew,” she said, casually.

“Helga! You’re brilliant!” Arnold yelled, as he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. Helga’s gut instinct was to sniff his hair and then shove him away, but everyone was looking at her, so she just stayed still (she couldn’t keep the goofy look off her face though). The hug ended too soon. Arnold jumped to his feet and placed his grandfather’s compass on the pillar. “Alright, everyone. Let’s head out,” he instructed, pointing in the direction his compass indicated.

The first rays of sunlight peeking through the trees reminded them of the urgency of their situation. After all, it had been more than a full day since Nayara had been kidnapped, so they traveled as fast as they could while still being cautious of potential dangers.

Though they tried to be watchful, they were caught completely off guard an hour into their journey when a dozen people dropped from the trees to the forest floor, surrounding them and brandishing spears. It seemed that Helga’s theory was correct, but what good would it do them if it got them all killed? The circle was closing in on them, weapons raised. Helga grabbed Arnold by the arm to pull him out of the way of one assailant who appeared particularly menacing. That was when Arnold remembered the gift Nayara had given him. “Wait!” he cried, retrieving the pendant from his pocket and holding it over his head. “We’re friends!”

The people ceased their attack and began speaking to one another in a language Arnold didn’t understand. They seemed to be debating what to do. Some of them looked at him with curiosity and one pointed at Miles. Arnold wondered if they recognized him. He could only hope. After a few minutes – during which Miles and the children stood frozen in place, hoping they would live through the morning – the Green-Eyed People came to a decision and motioned for the group to follow. They obliged, following in the same direction they had been walking before the ambush. _They must be taking us to the others!_ Arnold thought.

His father nudged him. “Hey, Arnold. Do you recognize the symbols on their backs?” A few of the people had tattoos on their shoulder or at the base of their necks. Arnold shook his head. “They look familiar to me…” Miles said. “I think that one means ‘good health.’ And the one on her shoulder represents some kind of bird.” One of the men turned around and pointed at Miles with his sword, the clear implication being: stop talking.

Miles would have stopped talking anyway, because a moment later, the home of the Green-Eyed People came into view. The tiny village was both humble and beautiful, consisting of about 10 houses, most of them built right into the trees. Their walls were made of pliable tree limbs bound together to create tapestries of red, purple, brown, and of course every shade of green. Inquisitive children leaned out of the doorways gawking at the newcomers. Adults stopped their work to watch them as well. Their faces were indifferent, but their eyes betrayed fear.

An old woman emerged from one of the ground level buildings and approached the group. One man who was among those that had led them here began speaking to the woman. She seemed angry at first, then merely suspicious. The woman pointed her staff at Miles and spoke directly to him. The voice was neither friendly nor hostile. Arnold figured she was probably asking "What are you doing here?"

"Hey Miles, can you speak to them?" Gerald asked.

"I... don't think I can speak the language. Just read it a little,” he said. Turning to the old woman, he asked tentatively, “Hablas español?"

A man nodded to the old woman then held up his hand. "Un poco" he replied. For the next 10 minutes, Miles (with help from Phoebe) tried to explain who they were and why they had come here to the man who spoke "a little" Spanish. In turn, he relayed the messages to the old woman (whose name they learned was Kitla), and Miles translated back to English for Gerald, Arnold, and Helga. Through this complicated communication system, they managed to relay to the Green-Eyed People that one of their own had been kidnapped, where it occurred, and why she was with them in the first place.

Kitla's face grew more and more somber as the conversation went on. Finally, after a brief huddle with some of the others, she conveyed to Arnold's group that they should all wait here while some of her people went to rescue Nayara. The people who had surrounded them earlier began herding them toward one of the buildings, apparently wanting to keep the outsiders contained. Once Arnold and his friends were inside, two individuals remained to guard the door.

"Wait!" Arnold yelled. "My mother may be out there too! Phoebe, tell them about my mother!"

Phoebe didn’t need to translate because Miles was already at the door calling to Kitla, unconcerned about the armed guards warning him to back up. "The pirates may have my wife, Stella!" The woman turned back briefly and nodded at Miles. Even without a translation, he could tell that she understood.


	31. An Unpleasant Realization

A band of Green-Eyed People left to search for Nayara, and Arnold, Miles, Helga, Phoebe, and Gerald were left in the hut they had been herded into. "Wow," Helga grumbled, "they really give their guests five-star treatment, huh?" As much as he hated to admit it, Arnold had similar feelings. They'd worked really hard to find the Green-Eyed People and warn them about Nayara. The Green-Eyed People should recognize that they were on the same side, shouldn't they? 

Phoebe tried to take a more reasoned approach. "That's not very fair, Helga. They don't know us after all. It's understandable that Kitla would have us sequestered from her people until she knows what to expect from us."

"Maybe it's not us she's worried about." Gerald said, pointing toward the door where a small crowd of Green-Eyed children were gathered, trying to peer around the guards at the outsiders.

The man who had spoken with them in Spanish earlier approached the hut, shooing the children away, and they ran off giggling. The man said something to the guards who allowed him to pass. Once inside, he laid an armful of brightly colored fruits and nuts in front of them. "Comida" he said simply. "Food."

Gerald grinned and reached for a handful of acai berries. "Gracias... um... what's his name?" he asked, looking at Phoebe.

"Suren" the man said, after Phoebe translated.

"Gracias, Suren!"

They all dug into the food greedily. As they ate, another small group of Green-Eyed people assembled outside the doorway. Motioning the guards out of the way, each person approached the doorway, bowed toward Miles, and said one short phrase in their language.

“They are saying ‘thank you.’” Suren informed Miles.

Miles looked taken aback. “They’re thanking me? For what?”

"So they do recognize you!" Arnold exclaimed. He proceeded to explain to his father how Miles and Stella developed an antidote for the sleeping sickness that plagued the Green Eyes years ago. As he spoke, Arnold felt himself becoming angry. He had known for years that his parents returned to San Lorenzo to help the Green-Eyed People, but he had never blamed them for his parents' disappearance or harbored any ill-will toward them. Yet now he felt a strange animosity bubbling up inside him. “A year after I was born, you and Mom left Hillwood for San Lorenzo to help the Green-Eyed People after the disease broke out again. But… you didn’t come back.”

Even though he had learned about Arnold mere hours ago, Miles’ heart ached for his son. He placed his hand over Arnold’s. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“It’s not your fault.” Arnold said, blinking away tears of frustration. “It’s theirs.” Arnold said, turning to face Suren. “My dad was in a prison in the middle of your jungle for years. You must have known! He helped cure your sleeping sickness twice! Why didn’t you all ever help him?”

Suren looked to Phoebe for a translation. A bit shocked, Phoebe tried to translate Arnold’s words in a way that made them seem less aggressive, but Arnold’s face gave his true feelings away. Suren seemed perplexed by the accusation. He went outside to huddle with some of the other adults who remembered Miles to see if they could understand. As this unfolded, Arnold was getting more impatient with the language barrier. He just wanted to yell at these people without it taking five minutes for them to understand his meaning.

Finally, one of the older men entered the hut to speak to Arnold. He looked him straight in the eyes and spoke softly. There was a sorrow in his face that made Arnold regret his outburst. Suren translated to Spanish, and then Phoebe to English. The old man continued to hold Arnold’s attention as the message was relayed.

“He says that he saw Miles 10 years ago on the day you were born. None of the Green Eyes ever saw him again. He also says that they are truly grateful for Miles’ and Stella’s help, but that you’re wrong about the sickness breaking out twice.”

Arnold looked down at his lap, ashamed and confused. “But… that’s what Dad wrote in the journal.” He said, unzipping his backpack to get the journal out. He turned to the final pages and read the last entry aloud. “Eduardo arrived quite unexpectedly today. He came to tell us that there's been another, much worse outbreak of the deadly sleeping sickness in San Lorenzo. The new strain of the disease is spreading all through the region and many Green-Eyes have already died.”

Arnold stared at the page for several long seconds as the meaning of the words sunk in. Finally Helga, who had listened quietly up ‘til now, said what was on her mind. “Criminy, that Eduardo guy’s a real liar, huh?”


	32. Simmons Finds Out

On the morning of the class’s third day in San Lorenzo, Robert Simmons was feeling especially cheery, which was really saying something for him. He could just feel in his heart that today was going to be a very special day. He was really looking forward to the items on today’s agenda, which included a tour of a historic mansion (rumored to be haunted), lunch at a local elementary school, and white-water rafting in the afternoon. The kids must have been excited too because when Mr. Simmons got to the lobby, most of them were already present.

“Everyone’s here but the poop crew, Mr. Simmons!” Sid announced to a round of laughter from his classmates. The students had given Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe, and Helga that unfortunate nickname on account of their “explosive diarrhea.”

“Don’t call them that, Sid,” Mr. Simmons said, half-heartedly (knowing his order wouldn’t be followed). “I’ll go check on them.” He went to Arnold and Gerald’s room first and knocked on the door. After a minute of knocking and calling their names, with no response, Simmons took out his set of keys for the students and let himself in.

No one was there.

He looked all around the room, even checking under the beds (and feeling pretty silly about it). Then he rushed to Helga and Phoebe’s room, a feeling of dread starting to build in his chest. The girls were missing as well. Now in state of panic, Simmons ran back to the lobby. The four children were not there. He checked in with the hotel staff. No one had seen them. Mr. Simmons ran to Principle Wartz’s room and banged on the door. Wartz opened the door and started speaking before Simmons could tell him the news. “Ah, so sorry, Robert, I seem to be running a bit late this morning, but I’m ready to go now! By the way, that’s a lovely shirt.”

Mr. Simmons looked down at his pink and orange button down. “Oh thanks. Peter bought it for me.” He said proudly, momentarily forgetting what he had run over here for. Then he shook his head vigorously. “But that’s not important right now! We have a big problem!”

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, Simmons was rushing through the front doors of San Lorenzo’s central police station. (Mr. Wartz had herded all the remaining students into a conference room at the hotel where they were now on lockdown.) 

“I need your help!” Simmons shrieked at the officer sitting at the front desk. “Four of our students are missing!”

The officer did not display anywhere near the appropriate amount of concern at this declaration. She yawned and reached for her phone. “I’ll let the boss know.”

The chief of police was similarly underwhelmed by Mr. Simmons report of four missing children. “I’m sure they’re fine, sir,” he said calmly. “Why don’t you check the nearest toy store?”

Simmons was baffled by this response. He slammed his fist on the police chief’s desk, trying to appear tough, but the image was ruined when he knocked the man’s name plate onto the floor and automatically apologized. “Please,” he said, picking the name plate off the floor and setting it gingerly back on the desk. “Can’t you help us? My students don’t know this city. If they went off somewhere on their own… they might have gotten lost or hurt.”

“Honestly, sir, we don’t have time to search for missing kids right now. Our force is busy with another issue.” 

Now Robert was truly enraged. “You’re too busy!? With what?”

The chief sighed. The dull look in his eyes betrayed that he thought this was all just a bother. “I suppose it’s going to get out anyway,” he said. “Our force is busy right now because an infamous pirate has escaped from prison. We’ve got every available officer looking for him.” 

“Is it unsafe for the children to be here?” Simmons asked. “Should we take them home?”

The police chief assured him that the students would be safe if they stayed near the hotel. He instructed Mr. Simmons to come back to him if he hadn’t located his missing students by the end of the day. Simmons left the station feeling dejected and worried, but determined to find the missing children before any harm could come to them.

* * *

 

Back in Hillwood, the Sunset Arms boarders were seated around the living room watching the morning news. “We have breaking news,” said the anchor. “An infamous river pirate has escaped prison and is on the loose in the Republic of San Lorenzo.” At the mention of San Lorenzo, Grandpa Phil gasped.

“San Lorenzo?” Mr. Hyunh said. “Isn’t that where Arnold is?”

Grandpa leapt up from his chair. “Holy smokes! What if Arnold’s in trouble!”

“What would a big shot pirate want with a bunch of kids on a school field trip?” Ernie reasoned. 

“Maybe he would take them hostage and demand ransom money,” Oskar said. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

Suzie crossed her arms and looked at her husband disapprovingly. “Oskar!”

“No, you nincompoops don’t understand!” Grandpa yelled. “Arnold’s wandering around in the jungle down there! That’s just the place an escaped pirate would go, isn’t it?”

“Oh my!” Mr. Hyunh exclaimed.

“Is there something we can do?” Suzie asked.

The group began throwing out different possibilities of how they might be able to help from 4000 miles away, and bickering about the merits of each.

Grandma jumped up on top of the piano. “Y’all are wasting time with your dilly dallying! Now is the time to act!” She pumped her fist in the air and cried “CHARGE!” Jumping down from the piano, Grandma ran out the front door, hopped onto a moving bus, and climbed up onto the roof as it drove away.

“Pookie, come back!” Phil yelled, running after her.

“I’ll meet you in San Lorenzo, partner!”


	33. Apologies

Arnold felt personally betrayed, as if Eduardo had been his own friend and not just his parents'. On the bright side, it meant that Arnold had no reason to resent the Green-Eyed People. And in true Arnold fashion, he decided that was the side of this realization he would focus on for now. "Lo siento," he said to Suren.

"Está bien," Suren responded, smiling.

With that matter cleared up, Suren left them to eat and rest up for a while. He later returned with Kitla, who glared at each outsider suspiciously and then declared that they were not a threat and could be allowed outside.

"Why did she change her mind?" Phoebe asked Suren.

The man shrugged. "I am her son. She listens to me."

Curious youngsters (and a few curious adults) flocked to them, chattering at them – or perhaps about them. One of the children poked Arnold’s cheek, and Arnold was sure that she was saying something to her friend about the shape of his head.

Two of the people who had surrounded their group on their way here came over to speak with them now. "They apologize for earlier," Suren translated. "They want you to know they didn't want to hurt you, only to scare you away." Arnold appreciated the clarification.

Although some were being quite friendly, most of the Green-Eyed People were still looking at the outsiders fearfully - despite Kitla’s pronouncement that they weren't dangerous. But everyone started to relax when three individuals began playing drums and a flute. Gradually, Green-Eyed People came down from their houses and started dancing. The Green-Eyed children grabbed the American children by the hand, urging them to dance as well. Even Miles joined in, though he couldn't remember ever having danced before. Kitla stood off to the side, with her arms crossed, judging the whole affair but saying nothing.

After dancing through a few songs, Miles clapped his son on the back and announced that he was bowing out. “I’m too tired to exert so much energy,” he said, laughing, and then retired to their hut to take a nap. Phoebe whispered something to Suren, who relayed her message to the band. Soon after, the musicians began to play at a more leisurely tempo. Some of the Green-Eyed people partnered up, indicating that this was their version of a slow dance – though it sounded different than the slow songs Arnold and his gang were used to. Phoebe returned to the group and extended her hand to Gerald. “Care to dance?” she asked. Gerald kissed her outstretched hand, and the two danced away together, leaving Arnold and Helga alone, glancing at one another awkwardly.

“Um… Helga…” Arnold blushed a bright red, and Helga thought that his head resembled a big, adorable turnip. “Would you like to dance with me?” he asked.

Helga laughed nervously. “Uh, sure. I mean if you insist. I don’t really care, but if you want to I guess that’d be okay.” Helga commanded herself to stop rambling as Arnold took her hand in his and wrapped his arm around her back. They didn't say anything at first. Arnold stared at his shoes, trying to concentrate on not stepping on Helga's toes, while Helga tried to concentrate on not fainting.

"Hey, Arnold…"

It took Arnold a second to realize that Helga had said his name. He stopped worrying about his feet for a moment and looked up at her expectantly.

"I... I’m sorry about all the times I was cruel to you…"

Arnold smiled. “I can’t be mad at you for things you did when you were _nine_ ," he joked.

Helga's heart melted. It was just like Arnold to be so forgiving. Tempting as it was to accept his forgiveness and not saying anything more about it, Helga wanted the sincerity of her apology to be understood. “Seriously though,” she said. “I spent the last six years making you miserable. Hitting you with spit wads. Spraying you in the face at the water fountain. Gluing feathers to your butt…”

“Calling me football head.”

“Well I’m not going to stop doing that. I mean, c’mon, have you looked in a mirror?”

Arnold laughed. “Okay, fine. I guess I can handle ‘football head.’”

“Perfect. I’ll keep calling you names but I’ll cut out all that other stuff. Sounds like we have a deal.”

“Whatever you say, Helga.”

“I… really am sorry though.” It was Helga’s turn to stare at her shoes now. “I wish I could be more like you. So open and honest and... well, good. But I didn’t want you or anyone else to know my secret… so I bullied you to cover it up. And that was selfish of me.”

Arnold squeezed Helga’s hand reassuringly. “I accept your apology.”

Helga wasn’t sure how long the slow dance lasted, but it certainly wasn’t long enough. Arnold pulled away as the music picked up again, and Helga had to resist the urge to hold on to his hand tightly so he couldn’t go. After a few more songs, the party was starting to die down. The Green-Eyed People returned to their work or to playing games and socializing. Two kids around Arnold’s age got out a ball and started playing a game that resembled hacky sack. They motioned for the American kids to join in, and they all tried to decipher the game’s rules despite not being able to communicate with the Green-Eyed children.

Eventually Arnold left his friends to their game and went into the hut to check on his father, who he found chatting with Suren. "Hey Arnold," Miles greeted him. "What's up? You didn’t get bored playing with the other kids did you?”

"No, I’m having a good time,” Arnold said. “I feel like I shouldn’t be though. I'm concerned about Nayara..."

"Ah yes, that's what Suren and I've been talking about."

"Are you worried about her?" Arnold asked, looking at the Green-Eyed man.

Miles translated the question and response. "He is worried. But he is also confident that Nayara can take care of herself. He says that she's probably already escaped and is on her way back to them. And if not, he believes his people can save her."

"When we were travelling with Nayara... she kind of made it seem like the rest of the group wasn't so fond of her."

"They're very fond of her." Miles said. "Suren's been telling me how much everyone likes her. But they're a bit afraid of her too, or rather of her relationship with outsiders."

"Why are they so afraid of outsiders?"

Miles’ face fell as he began recounting the story that Suren had told him. "Years ago, when Nayara was young,” he said, “the real La Sambra found Green-Eyed Peoples’ hidden city. He destroyed everything, killed dozens of people, and stole a sacred artifact."

"La Corazon."

"Yes, that's it. They were wary of outsiders before, since some of the folks in San Lorenzo City have a habit of cutting down large sections of their jungle. After their city was destroyed, they started moving around so they would be harder to find. Most of the adults and the teenagers, who are just old enough to remember, have an understandable distrust of people outside their community. But even though Nayara remembers everything, she’s more trusting than the others. The leaders worry that she’ll tell someone about their location, and people will come to harm them again.”

Arnold wanted to object, but then he realized Nayara had told _him_ about the Green-Eyed People’s location – or at least had given him a hint. He really wanted the Green-Eyed People to trust him, but he had to admit that their concerns were fair. Arnold had recently come very close to losing the neighborhood he called home. He remembered what it had felt like to worry that his friends would move away, the boarders would split up, and all the places that held memories dear to him would be destroyed. He imagined that must have been how the Green-Eyed people felt – times 100 – when their city was destroyed and so many lives were lost. Arnold could only hope that the real La Sambra would be caught someday, and the Green-Eyed People could have some justice.


	34. Another Escape

Nayara had wanted to leave as soon as possible, but Stella convinced her to wait for the weekly poker night, when many of the pirates got together in a room on the middle deck and drank a little too much. Finally, after Nayara had been on the ship for two full days (and had endured multiple interrogations), the two women set to work.

By nightfall when the poker game upstairs was in full swing, Stella and Nayara had succeeded in pulling from the wall (with the help of Stella's medical tools) the metal hooks that connected them to the ship and plugging the holes with gauze and adhesive tape. Having accomplished that, they snuck across the hold, with the chains that still remained around their wrists slung over their shoulders to keep them from dragging across the floor and making noise.

Releasing the stairs from their trap door was no easy feat, since they were built to open and close from above. In one of Stella’s previous escape attempts, she had climbed on top of a crate to reach the stairs and it had collapsed under her wait and alerted the pirates on the middle deck to her plan. But this time, Nayara sat on Stella’s shoulders and – after listening for any signs of pirates in the hallway – slid a bent wire through the trap door to reach the hook above. After a few tries, she managed to release the stairs and the two women made their way up to the middle deck.

The next step in their escape plan was to find Stella’s friend Eduardo. This was the stage when Stella typically got caught, but she refused to leave him behind. Nayara had suggested they get help and come back for him later, but Stella reasoned that Fantasma might have him killed without her there threatening to withhold medical attention. 

In a room at the back of the ship, pirates were loudly enjoying their poker game, which covered the sound of any creaks in floorboards as Stella and Nayara crept through the hallway. Eduardo was often kept in a closet sized room in the middle of the hallway, so they checked there first. Stella held an old shirt they had found in the hold, which would be used to muffle the voice of any pirate on the other side of the door who might attempt to sound the alarm, while Nayara was equipped with a bundle of rope to constrain him. Stella made a zero with her hand, indicating that neither a pirate, nor Eduardo was inside. They continued this process for three more doors, until Stella held up two fingers, which meant it was time to act.

The sleeping pirate had been gagged before he even knew what was happening, and Nayara quickly tied him up, using his bedsheets as extra insulation against any noise he might attempt to make. Their intrusion had also woken Eduardo, but he hadn’t made a sound. Being somewhat used to these escape attempts, he knew not to shout and give them away. Stella went to work on freeing Eduardo from the post around which his arms were tied. She slashed at the rope with a dull surgical knife while Nayara stood over the pirate, threatening to thump him with a mug from his bedside table if he made a sound. (Nayara was grateful that the wide-eyed pirate behaved himself so she did not have to deliver on this threat.)

Every second slashing away at the rope felt like an hour, but finally Eduardo was free and the three fugitives were on their way. Now all they had to do was make it past the room full of drunken pirates and into the gallery where they would make their escape from the only window on the mid-deck large enough for a person to fit through. Hopefully they would be far away before the guard in the crow's nest spotted them.

Just when Stella’s hand closed around the doorknob, someone else’s hand closed around the back of her collar.

“Going somewhere?” asked the pirate who had just emerged from the room next door.

Simultaneously, Eduardo lunged at the man, and Nayara swung at him with the chains around her wrists – the result being that she hit Eduardo in the head instead of the pirate. More men were appearing in the hallway now, wondering what all the commotion was about. By the time Eduardo had recovered and Nayara was ready to take another swing, the first pirate had pulled Stella into a choke hold.

“Go!” Stella yelled at her two accomplices. Eduardo grabbed Nayara by the elbow and pulled her toward the stairs which led to the upper deck.

“Wait!” Nayara screamed. Eduardo ignored her, dragging her up the stairs. Pirates ran after them from the middle deck, while yelling to alert the folks above. As they reached the upper deck, pirates were coming at them from all directions. Eduardo ran them straight toward the side of the ship and Nayara prepared to jump, but two pirates reached them first, knocking them over. More men descended upon them, and Nayara kicked and clawed desperately, hoping for a miracle.

Suddenly, arrows were flying toward them.

Nayara recognized those arrows. She looked up to see them flying from the trees that lined the river banks. The barrage caused many of the pirates to flee from the scene, and those who did not were rewarded with an arrow through their foot or grazing their arm. Now it was Nayara’s turn to grab Eduardo by the arm - so her people would know not to shoot at him. A second later, Eduardo and Nayara had dived into the warm waters of the Rio de Oscuridad. Two Green-Eyed People pulled them from the river as the others continued firing.

“A woman named Stella is still on board!” Nayara told them in her native tongue. One man nodded, and began winding up to throw a homemade grappling hook aboard the ship. That’s when the counterattack came. Three people were hit with pellets, and another called out a warning as a grenade flew toward them.

Someone called for them to retreat, and once again Nayara was being pulled away, leaving the woman who had helped her escape all alone on a ship full of enemies.

* * *

 

The ties around Stella's wrists were extra tight, probably in order to punish her. She knelt on the floor of the Captain’s cabin surrounded by a dozen pirates who were being berated by Fantasma.

“After years of searching for one of those Green-Eyes, you just let her get away!” he ranted. “And you!” Fantasma grabbed Stella by the front of her shirt and pulled her up to look him in the eyes. “This is all your fault!” Stella was tempted to spit in his face, but if she ever wanted to get off this ship and meet her son, she should probably try not to get killed.

"You have worse things to worry about,” Stella said. “The Green-Eye People won't just let you keep sailing through their jungle after you kidnapped one of them." 

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. “What?” Fantasma growled.

A trembling man entered, holding out an object. “We found this on the deck, sir. Looks like a bracelet with a compass. We think it belonged to the girl.”

“What use would she have with a compass?” one man chimed in. “They don’t work around here.”

“What use indeed?” Fantasma wondered, taking the bracelet and examining it. He furrowed his brow, and some of the rage left his eyes, as if something new had occurred to him.

“You all are dismissed,” he said with a wave of his hand. A sinister smiled spread across his face. “Suddenly, I’m feeling much better.”


	35. Eduardo's Story

Arnold was in the middle of a dream about fighting a hoard of pirates when he was awoken by shouts in a language he didn't understand. He got up and left the hut to see what the commotion was about. Many Green-Eyed People, rubbing sleep from their eyes, emerged from their shelters as well. Upon seeing Nayara returned safely home, the Green-Eyed People hollered and jumped for joy. Nayara blushed at the warm reception.

Feeling fully awake now, Arnold ran over to give the girl a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Of course, I am. Those pirates were no match for me. Actually, Arnold, I have really important news for you. I found your mom!"

"What!?" Arnold grinned from ear to ear. "Where is she?! Is she with you?" He looked around at the group of people who had arrived with Nayara, hoping that his mother might be among them. Instead he saw another face that he recognized from old photos: Eduardo.

"I'm so sorry, Arnold," Eduardo said, stepping forward. "We didn't manage to get off the ship with your mother."

"You left her?" Arnold asked, his voice a low growl.

Nayara looked at the ground as she spoke. "Things got messy... a pirate got ahold of her and she yelled at us to go on..."

Arnold glared at Eduardo. He wanted to scream at him for leaving his mother behind, but he didn't want Nayara to feel bad. "I know it isn't the best-case scenario," Eduardo said (making Arnold want to hit him), "but when Stella tells me to do something, I listen. We've tried to escape that boat so many times. Now that I've made it off, I can make a rescue plan from..." 

Eduardo's voice trailed off when he saw the man who emerged from the hut behind Arnold. "Miles!" Eduardo cried, tears springing to his eyes. He walked forward to embrace Miles, who hugged back, despite not having a clue who this one.

"Miles! I can't believe you're alive! All this time, Stella and I have thought you were dead!"

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't remember you."

"Don't remember me? Miles, it's Eduardo, you're old friend."

All three of Arnold's friends scowled upon hearing his name. "The guy's got amnesia," Helga said. "Not that he'd want to remember you anyway."

"I see. That's why you never came back to save us."

Gerald clenched his fist. "Why should he have come back for you?"

"Based on the evidence we've gathered up to this point, it does appear as though you betrayed them." Phoebe said, folding her arms.

"Why did you tell my parents that the sleeping sickness broke out again among the Green Eye's. That's the whole reason they came back here and disappeared! We know it isn't true."

Eduardo hung his head and took a deep breath. "You're right. Your parents' disappearance was all my fault. I lied to them, with disastrous consequences. Please, let's sit down and I will explain everything."

"Why should we trust anything you say?" Arnold asked.

"That's fair... you don't have to believe me, but I hope you will listen anyway."

Arnold was about to object when his father laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let's hear him out." Miles said. 

After everyone was seated comfortably, or as comfortable as they could be on the jungle floor, Eduardo began his story.

“It’s true. There was no second outbreak of the sleeping sickness among the Green Eyes. But the sickness had spread around the region and it wasn't cured everywhere. Fantasma's son caught it and was dying. 

"Who's Fantasma?" Arnold asked.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Fantasma is the leader of a band of river pirates that terrorizes this region. He used to go by the name La Sombra..."

"La Sombra!" Arnold exclaimed. Nayara gasped. She hadn't realized that Fantasma and La Sombra were the same person, and now she was kicking herself mentally because she had been on the same ship as the man who destroyed her home all those years ago and she'd done nothing to get revenge.

"Ah, you've heard of him," Eduardo said.

"My dad's been in prison for the last decade because the cops told him he was La Sombra."

"So many things make sense now..." Eduardo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That must be why he changed his name, so everyone would believe La Sombra was in jail and a new pirate had taken his place. He punished us severely anytime we called him La Sombra, so Stella and I and the couple pirates who were still with him got in the habit of calling him Fantasma."

"Alright, back to the story." Gerald said.

"Yes of course. La Sombra's son had caught the sleeping sickness. He knew that Miles and Stella had made a successful antidote that had cured the disease for the Green-Eyed people, so he thought that I might have it or that I would be able to get them to make more. So La Sombra kidnapped my wife and told me that if his son died… he would kill her. I went to the authorities first. I didn’t want to put your parents in danger. But the police wouldn’t help me. They didn’t want to defy the infamous La Sombra. So I went to find your parents. I told them that the Green Eyes were sick again because I wasn’t sure if they would come back for me. After spending the last nine years with Stella, I know I was wrong. I should have told them the truth." Eduardo looked straight at Miles, eyes filled with remorse. 

“Miles and Stella returned to San Lorenzo and created the antidote again, thinking they were doing it for the Green-Eyed People. I led your parents to the place where La Sombra had told me to drop off the antidote. He had told me he would let my wife go. At the very least, he did keep that part of his promise. But he and the other pirates… they ambushed your parents and me. We fought back of course, but there were so many of them. Miles managed to escape their grasp. I think he was trying to draw some of them away, but the pirates weren’t too concerned about him. Stella was who they really wanted. They’re always coming down with strange ailments in the jungle and they wanted a doctor.

"Miles, you came after Stella of course. You rounded up some folks from in town I guess, and then you set yourself up as a diversion. You came sailing by on this little boat. La Sombra’s men attacked you, and that’s when someone else started firing cannons at the ship from shore. They blew holes in it. I remember the panic when the ship started to sink. It was chaos. No one was paying much attention to me, so I tried to get to Stella to get away. But La Sombra’s son hadn’t recovered from the sickness yet, so he wasn’t letting Stella go so easily. You and a couple of the locals tried to climb aboard the ship, but one of the pirates knocked you out with a blow to the head and sent you into the rapids. There was a fork in the river ahead, and… well let’s just say you were on the wrong side of the fork. You went over a waterfall, and we never saw you again… so we assumed the worst. One of La Sombra's men managed to anchor the ship long enough for the pirates to get off – and to drag us with them – before the whole thing went down.

"A lot of the pirates ran off. Maybe they figured that without a ship there was no point in sticking around. La Sombra and the remaining crew took us to an old run-down mansion hidden in the jungle, and we were held captive there a few years. During that time, La Sombra changed his name to Fantasma and worked on building a new ship. When he started up pirating again, he wasn't as ruthless as before, since Stella struck a deal with him to treat the crew as long as he didn't kill people. Though maybe it was also to convince people that Fantasma and La Sombra really were two different people. Anyway, Stella and I have been on the new ship for years always trying and failing to escape, until tonight when I got away with the help of your friend and her people."

The group was quiet as they processed everything Eduardo had told them. Arnold wanted to keep being mad at him, but it wasn't in his nature. Instead he felt pity for the man who had only been trying to protect his wife.

Helga watched Arnold churning things over in his mind, noticing the subtle changes in his expression as he cycled through emotions. When Arnold finally spoke, it was to ask, “What happened to the people my dad brought with him?” Helga’s heart melted. It was just like Arnold to be concerned about them too.

“I think they got away,” Eduardo said. “A few were thrown overboard, but they weren’t unconscious like your father."

Arnold nodded, satisfied with this answer.

Nayara stood and placed her hands on her hips, purposefully. "The real question is, what do we do now to rescue Stella? La Sombra's going to be extra cautious after our attack." 

"He wants the Corazon," Eduardo said. "I'm sure he would make a trade."

Nayara bit her lip nervously. It seemed like a no-brainer; an item for a person was totally worth it. But she knew her people would never go for that. "It's... kind of sacred to us... It's the heart of our people. And it’s how we find each other when someone is away from the main group. We have these bracelets that…" Nayara's stomach dropped as she looked at her wrist where her bracelet was supposed to be. "Wait! Where’s my bracelet?!” Nayara began a worried conversation with some of the Green-Eyed People around her. Kitla especially seemed dismayed and frightened.

"What's wrong?" Arnold asked, concerned. "Is your bracelet sacred too?"

Phoebe, having already figured out the problem, began to answer his question. "If the pirates surmise that Nayara's bracelet might lead them to the Corazon…" 

“It will bring them straight to us! I don't know if we can take the pirates in a fight..." Nayara again turned away to have a conversation with her people. They seemed to be arguing and throwing ideas back and forth. Eventually she turned back to Arnold's group, looking dejected.

"They think we should leave immediately and find a new territory. I'm so sorry, Arnold. I want to help save your mom but... my people have to protect ourselves first.”

"Maybe we can do both," Arnold said.

"I don't know if that's possible..."

“I have an idea. If we do this right, La Sombra will never threaten either of our families again.”


	36. A Heated Discussion

It had now been a full day since Mr. Simmons had realized the four children were missing. He had searched for them all day – putting up flyers, talking to random strangers and visiting every location he could think of that a group of 10-year-olds might want to run off to – and then returned to the police station that evening, as he had been instructed, and the police chief had brushed him off again.

“We’ve got some new leads on the escaped prisoner,” the officer had said, “so we’re really focused on that right now. If we come across your kids in our search for the convict, we'll bring them back to you.”

“We can’t leave them out by themselves overnight!”

“Like I said, we’ll bring them back to you if we happen to see them.”

Simmons had left a description of each child with the police officers, and then had stayed up all night continuing to search, so that now he was a sleep-deprived, anxiety ridden mess. In the morning, he had bribed some of the hotel staff to watch the class while Principle Wartz accompanied him to the police station, hoping that Wartz might be able to convince them to help with some tough talk.

Now the two educators sat in the office of San Lorenzo’s chief police officer, who was clearly not happy to have them there.

“Listen, I really am sorry about your missing kids. We’ll keep an eye out. But the government’s really on my case about this escaped criminal. They even brought in the head of the our rural police force to oversee me. Can you imagine that? Some lady who deals with cow thieves or whatever kind of crime happens out in the villages – she’s here telling _me_ what to do.”

“Uh, yes, collaborating with someone new can be difficult at first but I’m sure…”

Principle Wartz slammed his fist on the desk, cutting his colleague off before he could continue with his lesson on cooperation. “We don’t care about your interpersonal issues! Four kids have gone missing in your city and it’s your job to help us find them! If you’d kept proper watch of your prisoner, you wouldn’t be in this situation!”

The police chief remained calm despite Wartz’ outburst. “I could say the same thing to you about your students.”

Mr. Simmons placed a hand on Wartz’ shoulder. The situation had escalated now and he wanted to avoid completely alienating the man who could possibly help them. “Let’s go back and check on the class. Please let us know if you find any clues, sir.”

The officer nodded and the two men walked out of his office. In the lobby of the station, another officer was talking on the phone, casually leaning back in his chair. “The whole thing is ridiculous. La Sombra never gave us any trouble before, but the guy guarding him yesterday must have been a real dolt. Apparently, a couple of kids just waltzed in and let La Sombra out. Kids! Can you believe it?”

Mr. Simmons’ head whipped around. “Uh, excuse me… did you say kids?”

The officer turned his attention to Mr. Simmons. “Yep, little elementary school kids,” he said, both to Simmons and the person on the phone. “The guard said one of them was a boy with really tall hair and the other one was a blonde girl with a unibrow.”

“Oh dear.”

All the blood rushed to Principle Wartz’ face, and Simmons could practically see the steam coming from his ears, pressure building up until he finally exploded. “They’ll be suspended for the rest of their lives!”


	37. The Trap

Fantasma and twenty of his men were making their way through the rainforest, chopping away at branches with their machetes and swatting at mosquitos every few seconds.

“Why’d we have to come this way, boss? It’s the worst part of this whole jungle.”

“We’re simply following the compass, lads. Our prize at the end will be worth a bit of discomfort now.” That was easy for Fantasma to say, as his first mate was fanning him non-stop to keep the bugs at bay and make the heat tolerable.

“It’s just going to lead us to one of the temples. Same place the compasses always point.”

“Perhaps, but none of us have ever thought to follow the compass past the temples. Once we get farther in, I’m confident that it will point us somewhere more… lucrative.”

The man who had spoken whispered to another, “Yeah, like a different temple.”

“Enough chit chat! Let’s get a move on, boys.”

* * *

“You think they’re going to fall for it?” Arnold asked Gerald.

“Sure they are, man. This plan is brilliant.”

After Arnold had proposed his initial plan, everyone – Arnold’s gang and the Green-Eyed People included – had put their heads together to enhance it and make all the different pieces fall into place, so that the final plan was better than anything Arnold could have thought up on his own. Most of the Green-Eyed People had scattered to different locations to fulfill their roles. At the moment, Arnold was just waiting for things to get moving, along with his friends, Miles and Eduardo, Nayara, Kitla, and a tall Green-Eyed woman named Yazil. Playing the waiting game was nerve-wracking, and everyone was a bit on edge. 

They heard the rustle of leaves behind them and everyone froze, except for Yazil, who brandished her knife, ready to defend them if necessary. Of course, there was no cause for concern. A Green-Eyed man stepped out from the trees, there to deliver a report. The man had a quick discussion with Nayara and Kitla before taking off again through the trees.

“He says the pirates are on the move. La Sombra brought twenty men along, but Stella’s not with them.”

“Which means she’s on the ship, practically unguarded,” Helga said, grinning. 

Miles clapped Eduardo on the back. “Alright ‘old friend,’ time for us to go after her.”

“I’m coming too,” Arnold said.

“I don’t think so. Too dangerous, young man.”

Arnold crossed his arms and stared his father down like a regular defiant pre-teen. “She’s my mom. I’m  _not_  going to sit here and do nothing.”

“I don’t know…”

“I think Helga should go as well,” Phoebe chimed in. “Miles and Eduardo can get Stella off the ship, and Helga and Arnold can stand watch. This way, Arnold, you can be useful without being in imminent danger, and no one will be by themselves. Gerald and I will stay here to assist with logistics.”

Arnold nodded. He was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to be the one to rescue his mom, but Phoebe had a point. It was probably best for someone to be on lookout in case things went wrong.

“Alright…” Miles said reluctantly. “But if things get dangerous, you two have to get out of there.” Miles, Eduardo, Arnold, and Helga turned to leave. Phoebe caught Helga’s eye and gave her a subtle wink.

* * *

“Ha!” Fantasma was practically jumping for joy (in a much less dignified manner than how he usually carried himself). “I told you! We’re out of range of that temple and the compass has changed directions!” He pointed at the compass and, sure enough, it was neither pointing in the direction they had come, nor the direction of any of the other nearby temples. “This is their trick! They make everyone think compasses don’t work around here, but once you’re inside the territory, it leads right to them!”

“Wow. I gotta hand it to you, boss. It seems like you’re on to something.”

“Of course I am,” Fantasma said, “I am an intellectual. It’s in my nature to catch on to things like this.”

There was a loud snap as one of the pirates was caught by the ankle in a rope trap and hoisted high into the air. “AHHH!” he screamed, as he hung upside down in the trees.

Startled, the pirates began firing their guns into the surrounding trees. The firing went on for a minute until Fantasma shouted at them to stop wasting their ammo. “Clearly there’s either no one there or you’ve run them off already,” he said haughtily. “This is probably just some trap they use to catch their dinner.”

“Dinner!?” squealed the pirate in the trap.

Fantasma rolled his eyes. “Somebody cut him down already.”

* * *

Miles, Eduardo, Arnold and Helga made their way to the Rio de Oscuridad, careful to avoid the path of the pirates. They reviewed the plan as they went. Eduardo described to Miles the layout of the ship and they discussed their strategy for sneaking on and off.

“With significantly fewer pirates than usual,” Eduardo said, “I think we won’t find it so difficult.”

“Oh, I almost forgot! I won’t recognize her!” Miles said. “What does she look like?”

Eduardo described Stella as best as he could. “Brown hair, green eyes… the only woman on board.”

“Plus, she’s kind of got a football head. Though it’s not as bad as this one,” Helga said, pointing at Arnold’s head. 

“Hey!” Arnold said.

Miles laughed and ruffled his son’s hair. “That’s useful information though! It might be dark on the ship, and that head of yours is a pretty distinct feature.”

* * *

“So boss, what did Mom say when you brought all the guns out of storage?”

“I bet she didn’t approve!”

Fantasma groaned at their jokes. He’d never liked their nickname for Stella. “Our doctor’s non-violence policy is no longer relevant. With the prize we’re about to get, we can all retire in the Caribbean.”

“Ooo, sounds nice.”

“But sir, do you really think these guns are enough to protect us during a run-in with the Green-Eyes?”

“What? Of course they are. Don’t you know anything about the history of the Americas, Vicente? The people with the guns have always defeated the primitive natives.”

“I think that had a lot to do with smallpox though…”

“Well then,  _cough_  on them, Vicente.”

One of the other pirates elbowed Vicente playfully. "The boss thinks you have smallpox," he whispered.

"And _I_  think the boss is letting his ambition cloud his judgement."

Their conversation was cut short by a round of arrows whizzing past them. The men panicked, some ducking and others running into the trees (a couple running into each other).

"Up there!" One of them yelled, pointing in the direction the arrows had come from. Two men began shooting into the trees once again.

"Did we get them?" Someone asked. But they'd heard no screams or bodies falling from the trees.

Another arrow flew at them from the opposite direction. The pirates screamed and ducked.

Fantasma couldn't think of any uplifting words for his rattled crew. "Keep moving!" He ordered.

* * *

Since Arnold's team didn't know where the ship was anchored, they had had to travel along the Rio de Oscuridad for miles before they'd finally found it. "There it is," Miles said. "Time for you kids to hide in the trees." Miles had been given Arnold's waterproof backpack and one of the pagers, and Helga would notify him if they saw anything amiss. As silently as possible, Miles and Eduardo slipped into the river and swam for the ship. 

Arnold and Helga waited with bated breath. Arnold couldn't believe that his mom was on that ship. Both of his parents were here, within a few hundred yards of him. He was so close to having them both back. The sound of a snapping twig drew him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a sinister face over Helga's shoulder. The pirate raised his knife.

"Helga!" Arnold grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of harm's way just in time. Then he attacked. It had been a while since he had put Grandma's martial arts lessons to use, but the moves came back to him well enough. One kick to the gut and a well-placed karate chop to the head had the man out cold. Helga's lovesick sigh and the "my hero" face she was making did not go unnoticed by Arnold.

Meanwhile, Miles and Eduardo were latching their grappling hooks (provided by the Green-Eyed People) onto the side rails of the ship and beginning their ascent up the side. Before pulling themselves aboard, they checked the crow's nest to ensure the guard was looking in another direction. Before the man could turn their way, they jumped the rails and raced to the stairs that would take them to the middle deck. Once hidden from sight, Miles pulled the pager out of his backpack and clipped it on his waist. He already had a message. "ONE PIRATE OUT HERE. TOOK HIM DOWN." He had to admit he was impressed, if also incredibly nervous. But for now, he had to focus on Stella.

Eduardo led the way since he knew the ship. They didn't know where Stella would be, so they were prepared to look in every room. But finding her turned out to be easier than they thought. Before they even reached the bottom of the stairs, they could see her tied to the mast in the middle of the hallway.

Something in Miles chest did a flip when we saw her. Maybe his heart still had memories that his mind didn't. He was so startled that he missed a step and stumbled down the stairs (almost knocking Eduardo over as well) and landed on his bottom with a thud. "Ow."

Stella gasped when she saw him.He looked up at her, embarrassed and unsure of what to say. 

"Hi... I'm Miles."

* * *

Fantasma knew that his men were growing panicky. And with good reason. In the past few hours, they'd been assaulted by arrows and spears and chased by wild animals. A wasps' nest had fallen on their heads. A boulder had come rolling down a hill after them. They'd gotten stuck in quick sand. They'd wandered straight into a den of snakes. They were hot, tired, and seriously spooked. 

To top it all off, Fantasma was starting to wonder if they were traveling in circles. “This compass must mean something! It has to lead us to them or.. or.. something!” he grumbled to himself under his breath. The men begged him to turn back, to stop following the compass. "Something really freaky is happening here, boss," one man kept saying. "This many bad things don’t happen in one day! They've set some kind of curse over their land!"

The other men shouted their agreement. But Fantasma wasn't giving up on his life's dream so easily.

* * *

The Green-Eyed People worked like a well-oiled machine, fulfilling each of their tasks exactly according to plan. They transported the magnetic relics they had retrieved from their temples to pre-determined places around their territory, moving each one to a new location as soon as the pirates were in range of the next. In this manner, they led the pirates exactly where they wanted them to go (which was toward all the traps they had set up). The path also looped them back around toward the area that Arnold, Helga, and Miles had traveled two days ago – to take advantage of the quicksand, mosquitos, and predatory snakes. (That had been Helga's idea.)

Most people who weren't assigned to moving relics were setting traps ahead of the pirates, so they were long gone by the time the pirates arrived and set them off. Though the traps were nothing to sneeze at, they weren't especially lethal. The goal wasn't casualties; it was fear.

Those remaining acted as messengers between Kitla and everyone else. They filled everyone in on how things were going and revised the plan where necessary. For hours, they all worked, moving swiftly through the jungle like only they could, steadfastly drawing the pirates toward their final trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, don't call people "primitive." La Sombra/Fantasma is being a jerk here, you see.


	38. One thing goes right

"Alright I'm back," a pirate said, as he backed out of a room just down the hall while zipping up his jeans. "You didn't escape in the two minutes I..." His joke was cut off as he looked up and saw Eduardo and Miles standing in front of the woman he was supposed to be guarding. He immediately began yelling for help. 

Like they had planned, Eduardo dealt with the pirate while Miles began cutting through the rope that bound Stella to the mainmast.

Tears streamed down Stella’s face. “Miles! You’re alive!”

“More or less.”

Two more pirates ran down the stairs, one getting past Eduardo. With the ropes around her loosened just enough to pull out one arm, Stella punched the man square in the face. He crumpled to the floor, yelling something about his nose.

“Nice.” Miles said, still working at the rope.

Stella blew air across her knuckles like she was blowing smoke from the barrel of a gun. “I’ve still got it.”

 _My old self picked the right woman._  Miles thought. 

* * *

 

“Helga, tell me that’s not a police boat coming up the river.”

Helga stared at the vessel heading up stream. Across the side were the words “Policía de San Lorenzo,” much like the one she had untied at the prison, except larger. In a moment, three more boats came into view.”

“Nope, looks like it’s several police boats coming up the river.”

“Page my dad!”

Helga was already on it.

* * *

 

The door to the gallery had been barred and blocked by several large crates after Stella’s last escape attempt, so they had no choice but to go back through the main deck. Once Stella was freed, they headed up the stairs, ready for a fight. Miles felt a buzz at his hip, but he was too pre-occupied to check the pager.

* * *

 

The police boats were getting closer. Arnold prayed that they would sail right past. Maybe the pirate ship isn’t their target? 

No such luck. Three of the boats began to surround the pirate ship. Arnold tried to take off toward the ship, but Helga grabbed his hand to stop him. “What are you doing!?”

“I have to help!”

“Yeah? And what exactly are you gonna do?!”

“I don’t know! But I have to do something!” Arnold yelled. He tugged at Helga’s hand, trying to escape.

“Hey, I think I heard something over here!” The voice belonged to an adult man and was quickly followed by a herd of footsteps. Arnold and Helga took off through jungle, hand in hand. Unfortunately, their legs were much shorter than those of their pursuers.

“One more step, and I shoot!”

The children froze and turned to see a policeman pointing a gun at them.

Four other officers caught up with him. Their hands hovered over the firearms at their hips, daring Arnold and Helga to make a move.

Helga dropped Arnold’s hand and put her hands up in the air. “H... hey now, c’mon. Let’s just calm down and talk this out.”

One of the officers tapped the first guy on the shoulder. “Take a look, Miguel,” she said, pointing at Helga, “Unibrow.”

Miguel directed his weapon straight at Helga now. “Alright, girly. You wanna talk? Let’s talk about how you released a dangerous criminal from our prison and made us all work overtime trying to bring him back in.”

“Oh… heh. That.” Helga glanced at Arnold, who was trying to think of some way to get them out of this, but was drawing a blank. “Okay. You caught me fair and square,” Helga said as she held out her arms to be handcuffed. “Go ahead and take me in.”

Arnold opened his mouth to object but Helga cut him off. “But let this kid go,” she said, gesturing toward Arnold. “He didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“It’s true that he doesn’t match the description,” one of the other officers said.

“Maybe not. But he needs to be returned to his classmates. One of us will escort him back to the city.”

“What are you talking about? This guy’s not in my class. He’s one of the Green-Eyed People.”

Miguel squinted at Arnold. “Doesn’t look like a Green Eye.”

“Are you kidding me? Just  _look_  at his eyes! They’re the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen! He was actually trying to help me find my way back home. You know, silly me, lost in the jungle. But now that you all are here I don’t need him to find my way. Why don’t you just let the poor kid go home?”

The officers glanced at each other, conflicted. Helga decided not to give them any more time to make up their mind. “Go on.” She said to Arnold, pointing in the direction of Phoebe and the others. “Go home.” Arnold didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay and help Helga and his parents. But there was nothing he could do against this many officers. Helga was smart enough to realize that their best chance was for him to return to the others for help. He offered her a tiny smile of gratitude and began backing away.

“Hold on...” Miguel followed Arnold’s movements with his gun. Arnold froze once again. “I’m still not sure I believe your story…”

“Eh, let him go,” one of the officers said, stepping forward to handcuff Helga. “He didn’t let La Sombra out. Who cares?”

Miguel finally lowered his gun and Arnold began backing away once again. Once the rest were out of sight, he ran for help.

* * *

 

“Shouldn’t we wait for the big finale until the others return with Stella? We don’t want any pirates getting back to the ship before they’ve rescued her.”

Nayara chewed on her lip as she contemplated this. “I don’t know how much longer we can wait… Our people are getting tired running those relics around. Plus, Suren reported that some of the men are trying to convince Fantasma to turn around. We can't have them doing that before our final scare. They might get the nerve to try again later."

Nayara and Kitla held a long conversation with their messenger, at the end of which Kitla nodded and stamped her staff firmly on the ground. Phoebe and Gerald didn’t need a translation to know that Kitla had just given the go ahead for the final stage of their plan.

Gerald turned to his girlfriend, his brow creased with worry. “I… I’m sure their okay.”

Phoebe sighed. “I certainly hope so.”

* * *

 

Miles, Eduardo, and Stella were met with three more pirates as soon as they reached the main deck (the final three pirates on board as far as they could tell). These pirates seemed to be better fighters than the first three, but Miles was confident they could take them. That is, until he heard the sirens.

Stella was the only one to heave a sigh of relief at the sound. Eduardo groaned, while Miles and the three pirates dropped to the floor to avoid being seen. Both Stella and the pirates were confused by Miles’ actions.

Someone on one of the police boats held up a megaphone. “Just hand over La Sombra and we won’t give you any trouble.” As they spoke, several officers made their way onto the pirate ship.

“La Sombra?” One of the pirates scratched his head. “You mean that pirate from ten years ago?”

“La Sombra is in the jungle!” Stella yelled. “Please! Go find him!”

The officers who had come aboard approached, waving their guns. “Very funny, lady,” one of them said. “We have eyes.” He proceeded to yank Miles up from the floor and place handcuffs around his wrists. The other officers began handcuffing everyone else.

“Wh… what are you doing?” Stella cried, thoroughly baffled.

“Wait!” Miles said as he watched his wife and old friend being handcuffed. “You said if they handed me over there wouldn’t be any trouble!”

“Well, they weren’t especially cooperative.”

* * *

 

Now Fantasma was sure that they were walking in circles. If they'd been walking straight, they shouldn't be anywhere near Volcán Turrialba. But there it was, towering over the tree tops, appearing purple in the light of late evening. Fantasma was about to give into his men's pleas and return to the ship.

But then, he saw it: a green glow radiating from the ceiling of a temple below the volcano. Fantasma started to laugh, softly at first until it built into a full body cackle. "There it is men!" He cried. "The treasure we've been searching for all these years!" Tears sprang to his eyes as he began running toward the temple. No one bothered to tell him that they didn't much care about this treasure. They ran after him, hoping for some shelter from the troop of spider monkeys that kept pelting them with fruit.

When Fantasma arrived inside, the light had already disappeared. He searched frantically for its source, which he was certain was the Corazon, but was in fact a little trick that Phoebe had rigged up using a flashlight she brought and a regular emerald from the Green-Eyed People. The moment the last pirate was inside the temple, large boulders were dropped in front of each temple entrance. Several of the men ran to the boulders and attempted to push them out of the way.

"We're trapped, boss!"

"It's the Green-Eyes! They've trapped us inside!"

"Now just calm down, fellas," Fantasma said. "I'm sure it was just a rock slide or something."

The temple was dark now except for a bit of moonlight coming through the hole in the ceiling. Burning incense sticks produced a thick greenish smoke that blurred the pirates' vision slightly. They heard chanting in an unfamiliar language, coming from outside.

"They’re casting a spell on us!”

“D...don’t be ridiculous!” Fantasma's shaking voice was less than convincing.

All around the temple, Green-Eyed People pounded their drums, continuing to chant. Gerald began to sing a Spanish lullaby he'd learned in choir. Mixed with the intimidating music of the Green-Eyed People, Gerald's raspy voice was both beautiful and terrifying.

_Duérmete_ _, mi_ _niño_ _,_

_Cabeza de_ _ayote_ _,_

_Si no_ _te_ _duermes_ _,_

_Te_ _come el coyote._

(Go to sleep, my child, Pumpkin head, If you don't fall asleep, The coyote will eat you.)

"This is reeeeally creepy, boss! What do we do?!"

"Just... keep working on the exits!" The order was unnecessary, as several pirates were still desperately trying to remove the boulders.

Throughout all this, Nayara lay on a balcony that hung over one entrance to the temple. Remaining hidden, she turned the flashlight back on and moved so that her image was projected onto the ceiling of the temple. The hole in the ceiling fit right in the middle of the shadow of her face, turning the figure on the ceiling into something resembling a cyclops with a giant eye. Fantasma reasoned that someone must be on that balcony and raised his gun to shoot, but a frantic pirate grabbed onto his arm. “You’ll anger them!” He screamed. As a result the shot ricocheted off the hard stone wall. The pirates shouted with fright as they jumped out of the way.

“QUIET!” Nayara’s voice boomed throughout the temple, amplified by a homemade megaphone (and some tips on projecting from Helga). The music outside stopped abruptly, as did the screams of the pirates. “YOU HAVE INVADED OUR HOME!" Nayara continued. "NOW YOU WILL BE PUNISHED!”

The pirates huddled close together. A rumbling sound began, soft at first but growing louder by the second.

“What’s that, boss?” one of the pirates squeeked. 

“H... how should I know?” Fantasma replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

One of his men gasped. “The volcano!! It’s gonna blow! They’re gonna melt us!”

“REPENT!!” Nayara’s voice boomed out once more. “REPENT AND YOU MAY BE SPARED!”

The pirates caved immediately. “Yes! We’re sorry! We repent!” they yelled. 

Outside, Kitla motioned to her people to cease their drumroll. Everyone retreated to hiding places the moment the large boulder was rolled away from the main temple entrance. The pirates were momentarily stunned as they saw their escape opened.

“GO!” yelled Nayara. “AND NEVER COME BACK!”

The pirates, including their leader, ran from the temple as fast as they could. When they were gone, the Green-Eyed People let out a loud cheer.

* * *

 

Fantasma and his men high tailed it through the jungle, back toward their ship. But after running for ten minutes, Fantasma’s greed began to overtake his fear again.

“Wait! They think they’ve defeated us!” He called after his men. “Now’s the perfect opportunity for an ambush!” The pirates ignored him. 

Fantasma began to tire, not being used to so much physical effort, and his men left him behind. The pirate captain stomped through the rainforest, infuriated that his men had deserted him… but then, he heard footsteps running toward him.  _Someone’s coming back!_ he thought.

“I knew I could depend on you…” 

The person emerged from the trees. And it was not who Fantasma was expecting.

Arnold tried to pivot and run in another direction, but the pirate before him reached out and snatched him by his shirt. Arnold was restrained before he could even take advantage of his karate.

“Not so fast, kid. You were with that Green-Eyed girl earlier weren’t you?” Fantasma grinned, suddenly feeling more energetic. “You’re coming with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the dramatic "all is lost" moment! 6 chapters left (give or take one). Will they pull it together and get out of this mess?!


	39. Questioning

"How did you get La Sombra out of prison?"

"You mean Miles? You all got the wrong guy, Bucko."

The officer stared blankly at Helga. They'd been over this already, when Helga had explained that she shouldn't really be in trouble for releasing a prisoner if that prisoner had not committed the crime he was in prison for.  The officer wasn't buying it.

"Answer the question."

"It was easy. We just faked a little emergency and Miles slipped out while the guard was distracted.

"The cameras didn’t catch anything. How'd you manage to turn them off?"

Helga scoffed. "The guard did that himself when Gerald bribed him to let us in in the first place!"

 

* * *

 

"Why won't you let me see my husband?"

"Why would a pretty thing like you marry a nasty pirate like that anyway?"

Stella cringed a being call a "pretty thing."

"Miles isn't a pirate. Why do you keep saying that?"

The officer continued to ignore her questions. "It wouldn't matter much if we let you see him. The guy's got amnesia. He doesn't remember you."

"You're lying. He came back for me."

"Maybe you're right. I always had a sneaking suspicion his amnesia story was made up."

* * *

 

“Please, just let Stella and Eduardo go! They've done nothing wrong!”

“Really? Sure seems like they were a part of that whole pirate operation. They’ll probably be locked up a long time.”

“They were being held captive!”

"Sure, you all say that. But I think you'll find that around here..." The police chief leaned across the table to look Miles square in the eyes. "What _I_ say goes."

"Why are you doing this to us?"

The chief slouched back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. "You know, the people of San Lorenzo City were overjoyed when we finally captured you, after all you'd done to terrorize us. Can't have a criminal like you on the loose. It makes people..." He paused for effect. "...lose trust in their police force, you know?"

 _So_ _it's all about saving face,_ Miles thought.  _Then there's only one thing to do._  

"Please, I'll never try to escape again. I'll confess to all of La Sombra's crimes. I'll say I was lying about the amnesia and I remember everything. Please, just let them go."

* * *

 

After several hours of questioning, Helga was released to her teacher. Thankfully, the officers returned her bag of belongings, including the pager.

“Oh my gosh, Helga! Are you okay?!" Simmons cried, kneeling down to be at eye level with her. "Tell me you’re okay! Oh thank goodness, I thought... I can’t believe… what did you…. WHAT were you thinking!!" Mr. Simmon's attitude shifted abruptly from worry to outrage. "HELGA! How could you just leave and run off into the jungle by yourselves?!!”

“Arnold needed my help…” Helga said, trying to defend herself.

“So you busted a convict out of jail to impress a boy?!!”

The color rose in Helga’s cheeks, along with the feeling of panic that came every time someone questioned her feelings for Arnold. Did Simmons know? How long had he known?

Mr. Simmons took a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m sorry for yelling, Helga. I know I’m just your teacher, but I care about you very much. I was so worried…”

Helga realized with horror that he was getting choked up. “Oh jeez. Don’t cry on me, Granola Boy,” she said, with more affection in her voice than her words would indicate.

Simmons laughed and wiped his eyes. “Okay, Helga. Just tell me how we can find the others, please.”

“I… can’t tell you that.”

“Helga, I’m not asking you.” Mr. Simmons puffed out his chest to try to make himself seem tougher. “This is an order. Tell me where the others are.”

Helga sighed. She genuinely felt bad for the guy. She hoped he wouldn’t get fired for this mess. “I’m sorry, Mr. Simmons, but I really can’t. Arnold’s parents, who have been missing for years, are here. They’re still alive. I even met one of them. They’re in trouble and Arnold is trying to save them and I can’t let you stop him.”

“What? His parents?” Robert was confused by this revelation. “If his parents are here you should let the police help them! You’re just kids, Helga!”

“Yeah, the police have sure been a load of help so far.”

“Fine, Helga. If you aren’t going to help, I’ll just take you back to stay with the rest of the class. I should warn you, they’re not very happy with you for ruining their trip.”


	40. A Nefarious Plot

"Alright, you're free to go," an officer said as he removed the handcuffs from Stella's wrists.

"What? Just like that?"

"One of the pirates corroborated your story."

"What about my husband?"

The police officer sighed and looked Stella in the eyes, appearing genuinely sympathetic. "If you want my advice... just, try to get on with your life. And don't go around referring to that criminal as your husband. It will make people wonder why we let you go."

"My husband is not La Sombra! Fantasma is La Sombra!"

The officer stood and held the door open for Stella, trying to move this conversation along and get her out of here already. "Hard to believe he's not La Sombra after he just confessed."

"He did what?!" 

The officer was clearly finished with this conversation. He pointed down the hallway. "Exit's that way," he said, before retreating into an office next door.

Stella started down the hallway, not sure of what else to do. Where was she even supposed to go once she was out of here? Nayara had said that her son was here in San Lorenzo. How would she find him? Or should she focus on freeing Miles first?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of murmurs coming from the chief's office. Stella stopped and held her ear to the door, praying that no one would come out into the hallway and see her. The officers inside were speaking Spanish, but thankfully Stella had years of practice with the language by now. 

"I know it sounds harsh, but this man is too dangerous to be kept alive."

Stella gasped, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. She heard other voices protesting: "He never even had a trial, chief."

"Doesn't matter. I made a little deal and got a confession out of him. He's guilty. We'll take care of him tonight and the whole matter will finally be out of my hair."

"You think Director Vega will let you do that?"

"Francesca was there when he confessed. She knows the law. Besides, this is my jurisdiction. Cruz, start making the arrangements."

"Yes, sir." 

"It's time for the people of this city to have a little faith in their police force again."

It sounded like people were getting up to leave, so Stella hurried down the hallway, waved casually to the officer at the front desk and left through the front doors of the police station.

She was immediately swooped up into a big hug by Eduardo. "Stella! Thank goodness you're okay! The cops didn't hurt you did they?"

"I'm fine, but Miles isn't. They think he's La Sombra."

"Ah, yes. Apparently, he's been held in prison as a stand-in for La Sombra for years. And Stella... there's something you should know. He doesn't remember us. Not even you. He has amnesia."

Stella closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The officers had said something about amnesia, but she'd been hoping it was a lie. "It doesn't matter," she said. "He's in trouble and I'm going to save him."

Eduardo nodded. "Okay, what do we do first?"

Stella bit her lower lip, thinking. She honestly had no idea. Then something caught her eye: an elderly woman on a dark brown mare, galloping down the middle of the street toward the station.

"Gertie?"

* * *

 

One member of the Green-Eyed People had been on lookout and saw Miles, Eduardo, and Stella being taken away in a police boat, but no one had any idea what had happened to Arnold and Helga. Gerald and Phoebe were seriously worried. Gerald had tried calling Arnold (who'd had the second phone last) a dozen times, but the calls wouldn't connect until Suren offered to escort him and Phoebe to the closest cell phone tower.

Finally Gerald heard the sweet sound of the phone ringing. "Arnold, what happened? Are you okay?!" He asked as soon as he was connected.

"If you want the kid alive, bring me the Corazon."

Gerald almost dropped the phone. "La Sombra," he growled into the receiver.

"Tonight at the southern temple. I want the girl I captured, the one who can speak Spanish, to bring it. .

"How do I know you've really got Arnold?" Gerald asked.

"Here kid, say something."

"Gerald, don't do it! I'm fine!" There was no mistaking Arnold's voice.

La Sombra continued to name his conditions. "The girl must come alone. I'll come alone as well, except for the boy, and we'll make a trade." Without waiting for a response, he hung up the phone.

* * *

 

Drivers laid on their horns as the woman rode past on her horse, but she was not discouraged. Ignoring all common sense, Stella ran out into the street and held up her hands. "Gertie! Gertie Shortman! It's me, Stella!"

Arnold's grandmother brought the horse to a stop just in front of her daughter-in-law. "That's Calamity Jane to you, young lass! How can I help you?" She asked, jumping down from her horse. Stella led them both to the sidewalk.

"Gertie, what are you doing here?"

"I heard a dangerous prisoner escaped from the old crowbar hotel. I've followed his trail to this location. Calamity Jane's gonna bring the villain to justice."

"That 'villain' is your son, Miles. We've gotta bust him out!"

Grandma didn't need any convincing, and changed her objective without issue. "Oh, I getcha." She leaned in close and whispered, "So we've gotta rescue an innocent man from the long arm of the law, 'eh? I'm in."

Stella smiled and turned back to Eduardo. "I think Gertie and I can handle this. Can you find someone who's willing to hide us?"

"Sure thing. I'll meet you in the alley behind the station."

"Two hours?"

Eduardo nodded, and Gertie tipped her hat to him as he ran off. Stella took Gertie's arm in hers. "Okay, Calamity Jane, we've got some work to do."

Gertie winked. "Call me partner."


	41. Rallying the Class

When they were back at the hotel, Mr. Simmons left Helga in a conference room with Principal Wartz and her classmates. As Helga entered the room, the students' expressions shifted from bored to enraged. Everyone began yelling at her all at once, including the principal.

"YOU! You ruined our class trip!"

"We missed out on our beach day!"

"And our shopping time!"

"Where's Arnold and Phoebe and Gerald?! I wanna yell at them too!"

"We didn't get to take the boat out to the islands!"

"I was really looking forward to flamenco dancing!"

All of the students stopped yelling and turned to look at Principal Warts, trying to imagine him doing a flamenco dance.

Harold was the first to break the silence. "There's just one thing I wanna know," he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Helga. "How did you manage to let a convict out of prison while you had explosive diarrhea?"

Helga groaned. "It was a lie, moron."

"That’s it, young lady." Wartz scolded. "Go sit in the corner and don’t say another word. In fact, all of you just be quiet. I want to read my magazine in peace." Wartz sat in a chair near the door and opened a copy of _Karaoke Weekly_.

Helga sat on the floor in the corner of the room, arms folded, glaring at the other students (most of whom glared back). After a few minutes of this, Helga heard a buzzing sound coming from her bag and pulled out the pager.

WHERE ARE YOU? the message said. It was from Phoebe.

Helga glanced toward Principal Wartz. He had already fallen asleep in his chair. Helga responded to the message: BACK WITH CLASS. CAUGHT BY POLICE.

The other students eyed her suspiciously as she typed. Curly was practically foaming at the mouth and looked like he might attack her if she made a wrong move.

The reply came within seconds: ARNOLD CAPTURED. LA SOMBRA HAS HIM. 

Helga's throat tightened and she felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead.  _How could that dolt let himself get captured?! All he had to do was run back to Phoebe and the others_ , Helga thought. Of course, more important than how he got captured was what Helga was going to do about it. She casually slid the pager back into her backpack, stood up, and began walking toward the door.

In an instant Curly was in front of her, growling and snapping at her with his teeth.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Rhonda asked.

“Listen you guys. I know you’re mad at me, but right now I really need to get out of this hotel.” Helga whispered.

“You and the others never should have run away in the first place," Eugene said, shaking his head. "We’re certainly not letting you leave again."

“But we ran off for a really good reason! Just let me explain."

“Save it for the judge," said Sid.

Lila, the only student besides Brainy who hadn't been yelling at Helga, stood and held up her hands. “Hold on, everyone. I'm ever so certain that Helga has a reasonable explanation. I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“Fine,” Rhonda said. “Explain yourself, then.”

Helga began the long story of how Arnold's parents had gone missing in San Lorenzo years ago, how Arnold had discovered that a pirate who might have kidnapped him was being held in prison in the jungle, how they found out that pirate was actually Arnold's father who'd basically been framed, how they'd tried to rescue Arnold's mother who was being held by the actual evil pirate going by a different name, and how the police had shown up at the end and ruined all their plans.

"And now," Helga said, happy to have reached the end of her explanation, "La Sombra has Arnold, and I need to go save him. I... could really use your all's help." 

Helga's classmates looked at one another, conflicted. Stinky said what they were all thinking. "Golly, Helga. I don't know what a bunch of kids like us could do."

"We could do a lot! Arnold and Phoebe and Gerald and I have already managed to do so much, and we're just kids too!" Helga wished it were Arnold giving this pep talk instead of her. He would be much better at it.

"Seems like you managed to get yourself in a lot of trouble," said Lorenzo.

"It would really dangerous..." Sid mumbled.

Helga climbed on top of a chair and put her hands on her hips. Time for a new tactic. “Eugene!" She said, startling the kid, "Remember that time Arnold was the only one of us who would ride the rollercoaster at Dinoland with you, since the rest of us thought you were a jinx?"

"That's true. He  _is_ always doing nice things for me like that."

"And Rhonda, remember when your family went broke and Arnold helped you adjust to life as a poor person?"

"I suppose he did as good of a job as anyone could..."

"Arnold helped Sid get over his fear of germs! He negotiated with Mr. Simmons to help Curly out during that wacky ball monitor situation! And Harold! I  _know_ you remember the time he helped you lose all that weight when you came back from the fat cruise!”

“Oh yeah, he did do that!”

"That dopey, football-headed kid has always been there for everyone one of you when you were in a bind. Sure, his never-ending optimism is annoying, but has he ever let you down?"

The students' shook their heads. "No!" Curly yelled.

"Now's he's the one in trouble and it's time to return the favor! You're not going to let  _him_ down, are you?"

"No way!" Eugene said, jumping up from his chair and subsequently tripping.

“But what about you, Helga?" Nadine said, before anyone else could get too excited. "Why do  _you_  care so much about finding Arnold’s parents?”

“Uh...me?”

“Yeah, I thought you hated him.”

Helga pulled nervously at the collar of her dress. “I… I don’t hate him.” 

“Well gee, Helga,” Sheena said, “It sure seems like you hate him, with the way you bully him and all.”

“I don’t bully him," Helga protested.

Harold was pointing his finger at her again. “You totally do!”

“Well, I don’t hate him okay!”

“Frankly, I find that kind of hard to believe,” Rhonda said. “If you don’t hate him, why would you pick on him so much?”

Other students chimed in with their agreement, murmuring: “Hey, that’s right!” and “What’s that about?”

“Because…” Helga began, wracking her brain for a good excuse.

“Why Helga?!”

Helga glanced at Lila. The girl smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. Helga took a deep breath and muttered, “BecauseIlikeArnold."

“What was that?” Eugene asked.

"I like Arnold."

"I'm sorry, Helga... but we can't hear you," said Lorenzo.

Why did everyone always make her repeat herself? This time she stated it clearly, so no one could miss it. “I LIKE ARNOLD!”

“You mean… you  _like_  him like him?” asked Sid.

“YES!! I  _like_  him like him! I’ve been in love with the boy ever since I first laid eyes on his stupid football-shaped face! I pick on him so he won't catch on but also so he'll notice me! I've filled entire journals with poems about him! I set up wild schemes just to be near him! I even have this locket with his picture that I wear around my neck 24/7! I am head over heels, crazy about Arnold!! Do you all believe me now!?”

The students stared at Helga for several excruciating seconds. Then Sheena held her hands over her heart. “Awww!”

"Well, I'm convinced," Rhonda said.

“Yeah, in that case, I’m in," Eugene added.

“Really?” Helga asked, thanking the gods or whoever was listening that they all hadn't burst into laughter.

“Me too,” Lila said.

“Well I reckon I better come along.”

More students added their agreement until everyone was enthusiastically nodding their heads.

“Alright then!” Helga said, still a little caught off guard. “Let’s do this!”

Everyone raised their fists in the air and yelled at once. “Yeah!!” Principal Wartz jump in his sleep, and the whole class froze mid-cheer. But Wartz settled back in his chair, eyes still closed, mumbling something about a sale at Green Meats.

When she was certain the coast was clear, Helga led her classmates past the sleeping gatekeeper and out the door.


	42. Jailbreak

"Alright Gertie, I need you to go into the police station and try to find any clues that might help us figure out a rescue plan. I can't do it because they know me."

"Darlin' I happen to be quite skilled in recon. You just sit back and leave this to Calamity Jane."

A bell rang as Gertie walked in the front door of the police station. The officer at the front desk glanced up briefly, but continued an animated conversation over the phone. She did not appear to be very happy with whoever was on the other line. Grandma waited patiently, tapping the toe of her boot along with a song playing in her head.

The officer finished her conversation with a heavy sigh and began fanning herself with some papers on her desk. "¿Cómo puedo ayudarlo?"

"Howdy, officer. I'm just a simple cowgirl visiting from the prairie, trying to get to know the big city. Think I could get a tour of this fine establishment?"

The officer stared at her blankly. "This is a police station. Not a museum."

"Well I reckon the station's just about the most interesting place in any city."

"What was your name?"

"Martha Jane Canary," Grandma answered.

"Officer Perez," the cop said, shaking Grandma's hand. She laid the papers back on her desk. "Let me go ask someone."

Once she was out of the room, Grandma studied the top page of the officer's makeshift fan, which just so happened to be a blueprint of the ventilation system. A minute later, Officer Perez was back and motioning for Grandma to follow her.

"I can only be away from the desk for a minute, but I guess we don't have much to show you anyway. Here's some file cabinets. That's a room where we store confiscated items." She continued to fan herself with one hand as she pointed things out with the other. "Sorry about the heat. The air conditioning is broken. I've been on the phone yelling at the repair shop all day."

"Where do you keep the criminals locked up?" Grandma asked, not at all bothered by the temperature.

"The main prison is at the south end of town, and there's another out in the jungle. We don't usually keep people here, but we do actually have one guy waiting in one of the interrogation rooms down that hallway." Grandma started to take a step down the hallway, but Officer Perez pulled her back. "Sorry, ma'am. Can't let you go that way."

The tour was over in a minute and Officer Perez was shooing Grandma out the door. "Thanks for stopping by, Martha. I hope you enjoy your visit to San Lorenzo!"

A moment later, Grandma was meeting back up with Stella just down the street.

"How'd it go?" Stella asked, wringing her hands anxiously.

"Grand. I got a map of the ventilation system."

"Really?! How'd you do that?"

"Used my feminine wiles of course."

Stella smiled. Knowing Gertie, it was believable. "Well, where's the map?"

"Right up here," Grandma said, tapping her head. Stella tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. She hoped that Gertie's memory was accurate.

Grandma put an arm around her daughter in law's shoulders. "Don't you worry, dear. With a few tools, you'll be able to pull this off."

* * *

 

Eduardo’s stomach lurched as the door opened. How would she react after all these years? The woman on the other side of the door gasped when she saw him, and immediately threw her arms around him. “Eduardo!”

“Marisol,” he said softly, stroking her hair. “I missed you.”

The moment ended too soon, when Marisol pulled away at the sound of a voice behind her. “Who is it, cariño?”

Eduardo looked in surprise at the woman who had approached (who had just called his wife ‘sweetheart’). Marisol took a step back and gestured toward the woman nervously. “Eduardo, this is my wife, Sofia. Sofia, this is… Eduardo.”

There was an unbearably long pause as the three of them stared at each other. Finally Eduardo broke the silence. “Ah, so you remarried. That makes sense.”

“Eduardo, I tried to get the police to search for you, I promise! But after they arrested La Sombra and you still didn’t show up, I assumed the worst! I’m so sorry I didn’t keep looking!” Marisol wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She felt overwhelmed with both relief and guilt.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry too. Actually… I need your help with something related to La Sombra.”

“Anything,” said Sofia.

“I’ll understand if you can’t help but the man that was arrested as La Sombra is innocent. I need to find somewhere to hide him for a while.”

Marisol didn’t need any further explanation. “I’ll get the basement ready,” she said, hurrying away.

Sophia invited Eduardo to come in, then held out her hand awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Eduardo. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, as if Eduardo were just an old pal instead of a husband who was presumed dead. Eduardo shook her hand. “Look… I know this is weird,” Sophia continued. “But we’ll figure something out. I’m glad that you’re here, truly. Marisol has missed you.”

Eduardo smiled and a little of the uneasiness in the room dissipated. Sophia was so nice. He imagined that she and Marisol made a very sweet couple.

* * *

 

“Kind of loud, don’t you think?” Miles whispered when the grate on the wall above him was finally removed.

Stella poked her head out of the air duct and coughed. She was covered in dust. “This was the quietest drill we could find.”

Miles stared up at her for a moment, searching for something familiar in her face… wanting desperately to find it but coming up short. “Stella, you should know that I…”

“Don’t remember me? I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Stella shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said as tears began to well up in the corner of her eyes. “I’m just happy you’re alive.”

Miles wished she wasn’t so understanding. It made what he had to say next so much harder. “I can’t go with you.”

“If you think I’m going to leave you behind after army crawling through these stuffy, grimy air ducts for the past half hour, you are seriously delusional.”

“They promised to leave you alone if I confessed. If I escape now, they’ll be after both of us forever. Arnold deserves to have a stable home. With his mother.”

“And his father!”

Miles sat down again, his mind made up.

“They’re going to execute you, Miles.” Stella whispered, tears flowing freely now.

This information caused Miles’ conviction to falter, but only for a moment. “I’ve spent the last decade in a solitary cell, thinking I was an evil man who had killed and kidnapped people. At least now I can be the good guy for once. Please, Stella. Just let me do this for you.”

“No,” Stella said, firmly. Miles could see a flicker of anger in her eyes, but it faded quickly and was replaced with compassion. “I know you aren’t aware of how the two of us work because of the amnesia and all. But in this relationship, one person doesn’t get to play the hero.” Stella extended a hand to Miles to help him into the duct. “We save _each other_.”

Miles examined her face once again. _It still doesn’t feel familiar_ , he thought. _But someday it could._

He took her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is the last time in this story we are breaking in or out of law enforcement property.


	43. Preparations

"Where exactly are we going, Helga?" Lila asked after the class had snuck past Principal Wartz and out of the hotel.

It was a good question. All Helga really had to go on was that La Sombra had Arnold, which probably meant that he was on the ship since the police had left it where it was anchored. But even if that were true, the ship could be anywhere on the Río Claro or the Río de Oscuridad. How would they find it?

Helga tried to play it cool. "We're going to the jungle, doi. I pretty much know my way around there by this point.”

At least she knew the first step: catch some tuk-tuks to take them to the edge of the jungle. One just happened to come to a stop half a block away, and a middle-aged woman climbed out of the vehicle.

It was the woman Arnold had spoken with in the outdoor pavilion on their first day in San Lorenzo. She seemed to recognize Helga as well because she waved. Helga waved back, and while she was distracted, the tuk-tuk drove away.  _Dang it!_

“Where’s your friend with the funny head?” the woman asked.

Helga was trying to think how much to tell her, when Harold just blurted it out: “He got kidnapped by pirates!”

The woman gasped. “Oh no! I shouldn’t have told him about the pirates!”

“Criminey. It’s not your fault. That kid is always finding ways to put himself in danger. So anyway, we’re off to save him…” Helga tried to extract them from the conversation so they could get moving.

“How are you going to do that?”

“Easy. Get to the jungle. Find the ship. Punch some pirates.” Helga waved at a passing tuk-tuk, but the driver was already carrying a passenger.

“There’s a couple I know in town that has a boat,” the woman said. “They never use it because of the pirates. Maybe I can get them to let me borrow it.”

“Really? You want to help us?”

The woman nodded.

“Okay, well… how do we get there?”

“Come with me. I'll get my neighbor to take us in their pick-up truck.”

Ten minutes later, the entire class was cramming into the back of a truck and riding to the edge of the city.

"Sorry, what was your name again?” Helga asked through the back window of the truck.

"Juanita,” the woman informed her.

Juanita’s neighbor drove them all through the farmlands bordering the jungle. Stinky kept commenting on the vegetables as they went: “Wow! That sorghum is the size of my head!”

The couple with the boat lived right on the Rio Claro. “If you can get it working you’re free to use it,” they told Juanita when she asked about borrowing it. 

“You kids know how to fix boats?” Juanita asked.

“What!?” Helga was freaking out a little now. She’d really thought they’d lucked out with this boat thing, and now they were going to have to walk. “Of course, we don’t know how to fix boats! We’re ten years old!”

Helga heard heavy breathing behind her, and someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to see Brainy. “Ugh, I’ll take a look,” he said. 

After thirty minutes of tinkering with the engine, Brainy had the boat working. Helga was so excited she gave him a kiss on the cheek, causing him to blush profusely. “What the heck, Brainy! Who knew you were a mechanical genius?!”

Brainy just shrugged, unable to speak. The students and Juanita filed onto the boat, ready to start their adventure. As Nadine boarded, Helga noticed that she was lovingly examining a tarantula in a bug carrier.

“Yikes, Nadine! What are you doing with that thing?!”

“Isn’t she a beauty? I found her out in the field. You never know. She might come in handy,” Nadine replied.

“You just had that cage with you?”

Rhonda answered for her friend. “She always does.”

Lorenzo steered the boat since his family owned a yacht and he knew how to operate it (though he said this one was very "low-tech" compared to what he was used to). Helga looked out over the river as they sailed into the jungle.  _Hang in_ _there, Arnold. I'm on my way._

* * *

 

"Helga just sent me a message. She's bringing the whole class to save Arnold," Phoebe informed Gerald and Nayara.

"Should we help? Maybe altogether we can take La Sombra down," Nayara suggested. "Then we won't have to worry about showing up with the Corazon?"

"I don't know... There's no guarantee the class will find the ship or that La Sombra, or any of the pirates, will be located there. We would be putting all our eggs in one basket, metaphorically speaking."

Nayara was unfamiliar with the phrase. "Huh?"

"I mean it seems risky to put all our hopes in the class. If we're all out looking for the ship and La Sombra shows up at the temple and you aren't there to meet him... we don't know what he'll do to Arnold."

"Ah, right," Nayara agreed sadly. All of her people had decided together that if it came down to it, they would trade the Corazon for Arnold. Of course they'd be hiding in the trees during the exchange, and if at all possible, they'd get Arnold back without giving up their sacred relic.

"Helga wants to know if she should pick us up," Phoebe said, looking at Gerald, who looked at Nayara.

"Go help your classmates," Nayara said. "We'll hold things down here."

Phoebe and Gerald each gave Nayara a hug, and they all wished each other luck before the Americans left to meet up with Helga.

* * *

 

The pirates had made it safely back to their ship following the big scare from the Green-Eyed People. They had found it empty, since the police had taken Stella and the few pirates on board. Fantasma couldn't care less that he was down a few men. What he was more concerned about was the fact that no one wanted to back him up tonight when he went to meet the Green-Eyed girl at the temple. 

"No way, boss! We don't want anything to do with those people ever again."

"Yeah, what he said! And besides, I'm not really cool with this whole kidnapping children thing. This is the second time this week!"

"You've been acting real ruthless lately, boss. Like that old guy, La Sombra."

Fantasma gritted his teeth, too furious to be eloquent at the moment. He stopped trying to persuade the others and retired to the captain's quarters to formulate a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to give Juanita a name the first time I wrote about her. My apologies to Alison Bechdel (not that that scene would have passed the Bechdel test anyway).
> 
> It's time for the finale y'all!


	44. The Final Showdown

The police chief slammed his fist down on his desk, sending fear into the hearts of the officers standing before him. "I don’t want word of this getting out to anyone. Get out there and find him and get him back here! Don't let anyone know what you're up to!"

"Not even Director Vega?"

"Especially not Director Vega, you idiot!"

A book came flying toward their heads and the officers got the hint. They exited the room as fast as they could and got to work.

* * *

 

The sun was just starting to set when they saw it: the pirate ship floating in the river ahead of them, anchored near the shore. The watch in the crow’s nest noticed them, but seemed to think they weren’t a threat. When they were close enough, all the students brought out grappling hooks that Phoebe had borrowed from the Green-Eyed People. They had pulled themselves on board before the pirates knew what was happening.

In mere moments, everything devolved into chaos – kids running all around the deck with improvised weapons. The pirates outnumbered them, but were still shaken from the events of the previous night, and also a bit reluctant to attack children.

Curly found a crate full of small cannon balls and was hurling them at pirates as though he were playing a game of dodge ball.

Harold ran from one pirate to the next, hurling all his weight into them to knock them over. Sid and Stinky followed behind him, quickly tying the pirates’ shoes together. One pirate lunged at Harold in an attempt to take him down, but Rhonda grabbed him by his cape just in time.

“Capes are soooo last season,” she remarked coolly.

“Gee thanks, Rhonda!” Harold said. “I didn’t know girls could be so brave!”

“Hmph,” Rhonda scoffed and continued thumping pirates on the head with her diamond encrusted hairbrush. 

Eugene managed to take out a couple pirates when he tripped over one of Harold’s victims, got tangled up in a sail, and pulled the whole thing down over two unsuspecting men.

In the midst of the chaos around her, Nadine held her tarantula gingerly, careful not to spook it. When a pirate noticed her and came running, she simply released her pet onto his head. The man screamed and took several steps backward, causing him to trip over the guard rail and fall into the river below. The tarantula escaped from his head in time, and Nadine collected her from the railing. “Good girl,” she said. 

Elsewhere on deck, Sheena and Lila were being backed up against the railing by three pirates. “Now hold on a second, fellas,” Shenna said, holding out her hands. “I’m sure we can resolve this peacefully.”

“Yes,” Lila agreed. “I’m certain that you must be good people at heart. You’ve just gotten into a bit of trouble is all. It would be oh so simple to start turning over a new leaf right now!”

“That’s right! All you have to do is  _not_  hit us!” Sheena said. “It’s easy!”

The pirates looked at one another, confused. Then one broke down crying. “They’re right, boys! I didn’t want my life to be like this!”

“Why should we stick our necks out for Fantasma? Let’s get outta here!” The three men proceeded to climb down the side of the ship and take off toward shore.

Though all of the student’s efforts were valiant, Phoebe was the real star of the show. “Let me show you how to use this thing,” she said when she got her hands on one of the pirate’s sword, and then proceeded to disarm a dozen pirates.

* * *

 

Fantasma was in a room on the middle deck when the attack began, trying to convince Manolo, one of his long-time followers, to be his backup during the exchange that evening.

"We need to be on our way immediately!" he pleaded with his underling, who shook his head resolutely. That was when Fantasma heard the commotion above them.

Manolo shook with terror, assuming it was the Green Eyes coming to rescue the hostage. Fantasma gritted his teeth and grabbed an empty sack from the room. He needed to get that kid and get off this ship. "Let's go," he ordered, grabbing Manolo by the collar. They ran into opposition at the top of the stairs, where Gerald placed a firm kick in Fantasma's gut. Before tumbling down the stairs, Fantasma managed to grab Gerald by the foot, and the three guys fell down the staircase together.

Having seen Gerald fall, Phoebe raced to his location and found him trying desperately to wrestle his way out from under two pirates at the bottom of the staircase. "Hey!" Phoebe yelled, pointing her sword at the pirates. "Hands off my boyfriend!"

Fantasma was about to laugh, but then Phoebe demonstrated her sword fighting technique with one clean slice through Manolo's shirt. A wide-eyed and terrified Fantasma grabbed his fellow pirate once again by the collar, ran down the hallway and into the gallery, and dove off the ship.

"What are you doing, sir?" Manolo asked when they reached the shore, sopping wet.

" _We're_  going to meet the Green-Eyes," Fantasma said, hauling the other man toward the trees.

"Don’t you need the boy?" Manolo whimpered.

"Clearly that's not an option," Fantasma sneered. He held up the sack he had grabbed from the ship. "You're rather short. You can pretend to be him."

"You're gonna hand me over to the Green Eyes?!"

"Relax, I've got a plan."

Unfortunately for Manolo, Fantasma's plan was to hand him over to the Green Eyes.

* * *

 

While her classmates were busy beating up pirates, Helga was looking for the object of her affection. She was about to make her way below deck when she heard a voice behind her: “You don't want to go that way."

Helga swung around, about to give the man a good pounding with Ol’ Betsy. “Wait!” the man said holding up his hands in surrender. “You’re looking for your friend, right? I’ll show you where he is.”

Helga’s fist was still raised. “Why should I trust you, Bucko?”

The man held his chin, trying to think of a reason. Then someone nearby gasped. “Santiago!"

The man smiled sadly and nodded toward Juanita. “Mamá," he said. 

Juanita embraced her son, admonishing him for being "muy malo" while showering him with kisses. Helga hated to break up their heartfelt moment, but they were kind of the middle of something here.

“Where’s Arnold?” She said impatiently.

“This way.” Santiago said, gesturing for her to follow.

“I’ve got this.” Helga said to Juanita. “Go help the others.”

Santiago led her across the deck and pointed to a door. "In the Captain's quarters," he said, handing her a knife and walking away. She found Arnold tied to the captain's desk.

"Helga!" Arnold cried, smiling from ear to ear. Now that Helga knew he was safe, her heart felt about ten pounds lighter. She set to work cutting through the many ropes that bound him, explaining everything that was happening as she did so.

“Wow! You got the whole class to help?”

“Yeah, well… it was no big deal," Helga said, suddenly feeling timid.

“You’re amazing, Helga," Arnold said, looking deep into her eyes and making her forget what she was doing for a moment. "What about my parents?” he asked.

 _Crap_ , Helga thought as she returned to cutting the ropes. After hearing about Arnold being kidnapped, she'd completely forgotten about his parents. “The police have them. That's all I know.”

Arnold nodded silently and Helga finished with the rest of the ropes. "You ready, football head?" Helga asked. "There are a lot of pirates out there."

“I think I can face them… with my girlfriend by my side."

“What girlfriend?!” Helga snapped, scrunching up her nose with distaste. 

Arnold laughed. “I meant you,” he said, leaning toward her.

"M...me?"

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

Helga had suddenly lost the ability to form words. She simply nodded.

"Is it also okay if I kiss you?"

Another nod. A moment later his lips met hers and the world around her exploded into vibrant colors. She could have sworn there was a chamber choir in the room with them, singing a triumphant rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus. Helga had kissed Arnold before, but this was nothing like those times. This time, he was kissing her. Because he wanted to.

The kiss was over all too soon. They did have work to do after all. “We’ve got to go.” Arnold announced, grabbing an empty scabbard to use as a makeshift weapon and taking Helga by the hand.

“Whatever you say, Love.” Helga cooed, as Arnold led her from the room. She snapped out of her stupor when they arrived back on the main deck and saw some kind of grenade soaring through the air in their direction. Arnold pulled back the scabbard and channeled his inner Mickey Kaline. He swung as hard as he could and sent the grenade flying across the river where it exploded with a huge cloud of smoke.

"Way to go, man!" Gerald congratulated his friend as he and Phoebe ran over. Despite everything happening around them, Arnold and Gerald still made time for their handshake.

"Anyone seen La Sombra?" Arnold asked.

"I believe one of the pirates who escaped was La Sombra," said Phoebe, "as evidenced by his luxurious attire."

"Let's just get out of here and back to the city," Gerald suggested.

Arnold shook his head. "We have to take in the real La Sombra, to convince the police they're wrong about my dad."

It was Helga who grabbed Arnold by the hand this time. "Let's get going, then!"

* * *

 

Nayara waited on the steps of the temple, careful to stand where the lookouts could see her. She held the Corazón reverently in her arms. She hadn't been waiting long when Fantasma arrived, dragging a sack behind him. Inside appeared to be a struggling person.

"Arnold!" Nayara stepped toward the sack to let Arnold out but Fantasma blocked her path.

"Ah, ah, ah." He said, pointing to the Corazón. Naraya held out the relic, and Fantasma snatched it up greedily, giggling like a young child. The Corazón was wrapped in cloth, but he could still see the emerald glow through the fabric.

The arrows started flying the moment Nayara opened the bag and did not find Arnold inside. Fantasma was already running, clutching the Corazón to his chest. He was just starting to think that he might get away when he saw the football headed boy and some other kid with a unibrow. The boy was running straight at him, swinging Fantasma's own scabbard like a baseball bat. Fantasma pivoted to run in a different direction, but the move slowed him down enough for one of the arrows to find its way to his bottom.

Fantasma yelped and the Corazón flew out of his arms. Every member of the Green-Eyed People hidden in the trees gasped at once as their precious artifact flew through the air. Helga dove for it, and it landed safely in her outstretched hands. She gaped at the bright green light that shone through an opening in the fabric, until Arnold covered it back up. "Don't look," he said. "It’s too sacred.”

The Green-Eyed People were already tying up Manolo and La Sombra, who was kicking and screaming. Arnold helped Helga up and returned the Corazón to Nayara. They met up with the class, who had mercifully returned to their boat and left the pirates to nurse their wounds, and they all sailed back to the city together.


	45. Resolution

A huge crowd of people surrounded the police station and continued to grow every minute as the protesters drew the attention of passers-by. Word had gotten around that a few police officers were raiding homes and looking for La Sombra. Some protestors were upset about the invasion of privacy. Some were angry that the police had seemingly lost the criminal once again, and others believed the officers had lied about recapturing him after his escape. Then there was the elderly woman dressed in a fringed trench coat and rancher hat who had climbed up on the roof of the station and was shouting about how the criminal in question was actually innocent. Not understanding Spanish, she assumed that the citizens of San Lorenzo were yelling about the same thing she was.

To top it all off, one sobbing teacher and a flustered principal were keeping two officers occupied with their half-coherent ramblings about an entire class of missing children. The rest of the police officers were trying to pacify the crowd. One stood in front of the doors to the station with a bullhorn, calmly explaining that the rumors of La Sombra's second escape were unfounded and that the infamous pirate was in fact locked away in an interrogation room at this very station. This line of reasoning of course backfired when the people demanded he be brought outside as proof.

"The jig is up!" shouted the woman on the roof. "Y'all locked up an innocent man, and the people won't stand for it!"

"Pookie! Get down from there!" The concerned old man held up his arms to help his wife off the roof.

She did not accept his help. "Well if ain't my old friend, Wild Bill," she said with a wink.

It was in the middle of this chaos that Arnold and his classmates arrived, along with Juanita and Santiago, Nayara, and two older Green-Eyed People escorting La Sombra and Manolo. "You've got the wrong guy!" Arnold announced, as loudly as he could to be heard above the racket.

"Arnold!" yelled the old man upon seeing his grandson.

"Grandpa?" said Arnold.

"Tex!" greeted Gertie.

"CLASS!!" cried Mr. Simmons. He pushed through the crowd and gave the first student he came to (Curly) a big hug, and then proceeded to embrace them all and check everyone for bruises, scratches and broken bones.

"QUÉ PASA?!"

The booming voice brought relative silence over the crowd. The speaker had taken the megaphone out of the hands of the officer trying to set everyone straight.

"L...los siento, Director Vega," stammered the officer.

Director Vega grunted disapprovingly and turned to the crowd. Nayara translated her words for Arnold. "Is there a leader among you who can explain your complaints?" she asked the people politely.

Gertie raised her hand. "No, Pookie," said Grandpa, shaking his head.

A woman came forward to explain that her house had been raided by two officers that morning. "They kept asking me vague questions about La Sombra," she said, "like he'd escaped again and they were looking for him! The people deserve to know if he's on the loose!"

"The police never had La Sombra in the first place!" Arnold yelled. The entire crowd of people turned to look at the young boy. "La Sombra just rebranded himself as Fantasma! This is the real criminal!" Arnold pointed at the bound man behind him.

"Don't listen to him!" Fantasma snapped. "He's just a dumb kid!"

Director Vega motioned for Arnold to come forward and the crowd parted to allow him through. Helga, Nayara, Phoebe, and Gerald, as well as the two Green-Eyed adults, followed after him with La Sombra and the other pirate in tow. 

"Go get the chief," Director Vega told one of the officers. "I'd like to hear what he has to say about all this."

While they waited for the chief to arrive, Arnold asked his grandfather what he was in San Lorenzo.

“Your grandma took off when she heard about the escaped prisoner, thinking she had to protect you from him. So of course, I had to come after her! The boarders took up a collection and we pulled together enough for a cheap bus ticket. I’ve been sittin’ on an overcrowded bus for the past 3 days! It’s really taken a toll on my tookus, Arnold.”

Arnold laughed. “Well I’m glad you all are here. About that escaped criminal though… it was Dad.”

Grandpa gasped. “Say what now!?”

“Don’t worry. I think you’re about to get filled in,” Arnold said, as an irate police chief emerged through the front doors of the station, clearly unhappy that he’d been ordered to make an appearance.

In front of the whole crowd, Director Vega began piecing together the evidence of this decades long case from the array of witnesses present, including Arnold and his friends, the police officers, and the pirates who had been taken into custody. The crowd gasped, murmured, and booed at varying parts of the narrative. By this point, members of the press had shown up and were broadcasting everything to the whole city.

Fantasma’s men showed him no loyalty. Manolo, who was not very happy about being handed over to the Green-Eyed People in a sack, told the officers everything. He was one of just a handful of pirates who had been with Fantasma since the time he went by La Sombra, and he confirmed that the boss had switched names after learning that the police had put the wrong man in prison. All the signs pointed toward Arnold’s story being true, but the police chief still had one defense. “El confeso!” the chief protested.

“Hmmm…” Director Vega nodded, considering this, and then turned to Arnold to voice the chief’s complaint. “If what you’re saying is true… if Fantasma is really La Sombra and the man we thought was La Sombra is your father, why would he confess?

Arnold’s heart sunk. He didn’t have an answer to that. But thankfully, an officer proposed a theory. “I was interrogating the woman we took in from the ship,” he said. “She kept calling the guy Miles and saying he was her husband. What if…” the officer stalled, knowing that what he was about to say was incriminating, “what if the chief made a deal with him? A confession in exchange for letting his wife go?”

The chief balled up his fists tightly and proceeded to assure Director Vega that he would never coerce a suspect into giving false testimony.

“It wouldn’t be so out of character,” said another officer. Phoebe recognized him as the man who had helped them get Arnold’s journal back several nights ago. “That man never even had a trial after the first time we captured him.”

Several police officers nodded their agreement and the crowd gasped. Nayara again translated the police chiefs words for Arnold and the English speakers around him: “Hey I didn’t do anything wrong! Not intentionally! I really thought the guy was La Sombra!”

“That’s hogwash!” Grandpa Phil yelled, adding to the story for the first time. “I’ve been calling the police chief every month for years trying to get some information about my missing son!” He wiped a tear from his cheek and turned to look the chief in the eyes. “I described Miles’ appearance to you a hundred times. Sent you dozens of pictures. You knew exactly who you had in that cell.” Grandpa Phil pulled out his wallet and showed the pictures inside to Director Vega. “See, this is my son, Miles Shortman.”

“That’s the man I met earlier, all right. I think I’ve heard enough.” Director Vega pulled her handcuffs from her belt and placed them around the chief’s wrists. “Cuff that one too,” she said, gesturing toward La Sombra.

The crowd cheered as the chief and the real La Sombra were led into the station, screaming and swearing. “Miles Shortman is hereby proclaimed innocent!” announced Director Vega to another round of cheers. “Say… where is that guy anyway?”

A woman stepped forward and introduced herself as Marisol. “I think I can help with that.”

* * *

 

Eduardo nearly had a heart attack when Marisol walked in the house with a police officer, but she assured him that everything was alright. An eager Arnold pushed his way through the adults, looking around the room for his parents. 

"Stella, Miles!" Eduardo called. "Come see your son!" Stella appeared in the archway in less than a second and locked eyes with Arnold. She looked thinner than she had in the pictures, and her hair had grown longer. But Arnold knew this was definitely her. His mother, who had been missing for years, standing right in front of him.

But Arnold didn't really have time to take in her appearance before she had thrown her arms around him with a tortured sob. "Arnold! My baby boy!" 

Miles joined the embrace, kissing Stella and Arnold on the tops of their heads. Phil placed an arm over Gertie's shoulder, and they both tried to wrap their minds around the fact that their son was still alive. Tears flowed from the eyes of everyone in the room, and Arnold let himself get lost in the feeling of his parents' arms around him.

* * *

 

The next few hours were spent tying up loose ends. Director Vega he sent a unit out on the Río de Oscuridad to bring in the remaining river pirates. All the pirates would probably all be doing time, but some of them (Santiago for one) seemed to be okay with that. At least their families could visit. 

Vega also thanked the Green-Eyed People for their help, and agreed to set them up a meeting with the President of the Republic to discuss what policies needed to be put in place to better preserve their rainforest and protect their people.

Mr. Simmons made arrangements to fly the class (as well as Gertie and Phil) back to Hillwood the next morning. Everyone was pretty tired at this point and ready to go home.

Finally, after a  _very_  long evening (week really), Arnold was able to sit in the little courtyard outside their hotel, enjoying the cool night air and the company of his parents. The sun had set over San Lorenzo many hours ago, and Miles' eyes were starting to droop. Stella ruffled her son’s hair. “We better get some sleep, Arnold. It’s been a long time since your father and I have seen so much activity in the span of a couple days.” 

Arnold jumped up and threw his arms around his parents. They hugged him tightly and kissed him on the forehead. As they began to pull away, he held on.  

“Wait! Not yet!” 

Stella squeezed Arnold’s hand. “We’re going to be here in the morning this time.” Her eyes were wet with tears. “We promise.” 

They were all about to head inside when they heard a crash and someone yelling "ooof!"

Arnold turned to see Helga lying in a bush. He hurried to help her up. 

“Hey football head, how’s it going?” Helga asked nervously. 

"We'll give you two a few minutes," Miles said with a smile, before exiting the courtyard with his wife. 

“Helga, did you just fall out of that tree?” Arnold asked.

“Well, I’ve told you before that I love climbing trees, Arnoldo....whoa!” Arnold had pulled her into a hug so quickly that it had nearly knocked them both over. Helga resisted the urge to pull away. 

After a long moment, Arnold stepped back from the hug so that he could look Helga in the eye. But his hands remained around her waist. “Helga, thank you so much. I never would have gotten them back without you.” 

Helga blushed. “Uh… I mean… It’s not like I did something super heroic. I was just here... so I helped out. No big deal. I mean criminy, what else are you supposed to do when… uh…” 

“When someone you love is in trouble?” 

Helga took a deep breath. Admitting her feelings out loud was still tough, but it was getting easier. “Yeah. That.” 

They stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other, until Arnold leaned forward to give her a peck on the cheek. And he spoke the words she thought she would only ever hear in her dreams: "I love you too, Helga."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It's done! I can't believe it! I really really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love these characters so much and wanted them all to get their happy ending.
> 
> I really appreciate your comments and kudos! Thank you so much for reading!!


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